Three Words Part 2: Acceptance
by VeriAequeRedem
Summary: Part 2 of 3. It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting
1. Prologue: The Reluctant Truth

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

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Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

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A/N: OH YEAH, I'M BACK!

And I'm pretty sure that all of you are very happy to hear from me.

This my friends, is the much anticipated sequel to Part 1, which is even more exciting and more thrilling than the first!

As you all know, Draco died in the first story. Now, I've recieved a lot (and I mean a lot!) of very...emotional responses about this subject, and I know that all of you want him to come back to life. Truth is...oh wait, I can't tell you that. Sorry!

Anyway, that big cliffhanger at the end of part one probably has you all very excited so I think I'll let you read the story...but first-

A HUGE THANKS to my beta's, **iamanevilgenius** and **i am the muse of the evil genius** for their fabulous work!

Please, for the love of God, read and review!

Oh and on a personal note, check out my one-shot, Wash it all Away, when you can.

And now, I present (in color!), Three Words Part 2: Acceptance

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_Music Theme: Agnus Dei-Samuel Barber_

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Six months.

It had been exactly six months two weeks since Draco had died.

For many that knew Draco, the loss of a friend, a comrade, a brother-it's toll was great. Fortunately for them, they were able to move on with their lives. They were able to do the things that they were supposed to do. _They_ were able to live.

Unfortunately, Harry Potter was not able to move on in his life. In fact, during the first three months of grieving for the loss of his love, he was barely able to function in society. Then again, he was barely able to function in the privacy of his own home. The three months of therapy saved him, according to his friends in the U.S., whilst the church saved him by giving him redemption, according to his friends in England.

No matter what saved him, it was the last three months that concerned everyone that was close to him. He would often shut himself away in his new home, due to his old one being destroyed and the memories that he had of Draco in said house. No one knew what he was doing in his home, but they knew that it couldn't be very good, considering that he had bought very controversial things lately.

For instance, two weeks ago, Harry went down to Diagon Alley and bought three phials of dragon's blood. Later in the same day, he was seen in Knockturn Alley, buying an old athame, along with a very old tome. But what really worried his friends, was when he bought wormwood, which he knew was very dangerous to handle.

All of his friends wanted to ask him what was going on, but all were afraid. They all knew that he had tried to kill himself many times. All of them thought that it was just him being suicidal. But, because Harry never said anything unless he had to, they didn't know that he was just trying to silence the demon that began to haunt Harry.

"The Demon," as Harry called it, would occasionally appear to him and talk. But what was worse was the fact that it looked just like Draco, just before he died. Blood everywhere, along with the gunshot wounds that he had received protecting Harry from Angel, who was Draco's half-brother. Every time Harry saw him, he wouldn't scream or cry. He would just stare and half listen, knowing that the thing was probably right. After the thing left, he would have a cigarette to dull the pain.

His friends just thought that he was addicted to cigarettes. In a sense, he was, but it was more that he was addicted to the relief that they provided.

And so, we venture now in the new home that Harry had moved into. The new home was out in the country, in the middle of a great forest. There was only one road in and out of the place, and Harry had now taken up great precautions by setting up a security system, which was part magical and part Muggle. The house itself is white, with a nice brick base and brick chimney, which Harry had added . It was two stories tall, with no attic, but it had a basement and a secret sub-basement that Harry had added himself. It only had two bedrooms, but a big office and library, along with the usual living room, kitchen and dining room. The garage now contained the Stratus that Harry had owned before, along with his Lexus, but the newest addition was his motorcycle, a Honda CBR-125R in black. Harry used the motorcycle more than the cars now, simply because it was easier for him in a sense.

The inside of the house was less bleak than the original. It had many pictures, including the more recent photographs of Draco, along with Ronald and Hermione Weasley. What was even more astonishing, was the numerous photographs of Harry's Goddaughter, Angela Weasley, who was Draco's niece by blood. She was a beautiful girl, and she was considered by many to be the last bit of light in his world. To her however, he was not only Godfather, but silent protector and guardian as well. Upon Draco's death, Harry had become Executer of the Malfoy estate. He used the vast Malfoy fortune to set up a trust fund for Angela. He left the estate itself alone, and only cleaned the vast Malfoy Manor. He did visit the Manor often, but no one knew what he did there.

The new home was also decorated with dark furniture, no leather, but lots of oak. The bedroom was full of things that belonged to both Harry and Draco from when they were younger. Harry immersed himself in these things to make sure that Draco wasn't forgotten, though this was a ruse. Two weeks after the funeral, Harry was standing in the new home when he saw Draco, smiling at him. In the instant that he was there, however, he disappeared. Harry fell to his knees, begging him to not leave him.

While the house itself was nice to his friends, our story actually starts in the backyard, which is bleak. Surrounded by trees that are beginning anew, flowers that were once covered in snow sprouting from the ground, ready to bloom. Unfortunately, it was the dead of night, so they wouldn't receive the warmth they needed until the next day.

Harry however, was occupied. There was a small fire in the middle of his lawn, with a cauldron full of a black substance sitting over it. To Harry's right, there were empty phials and cut up herbs, which were the ingredients of his potion, including the dragons blood and the wormwood. To Harry's left, sat the athame that he purchased. In front of him was the tome that he had also purchased. Harry himself was sitting on his knees, his hands to his side. His eyes were closed and to the average person, he was chanting in some unknown language.

He chanted for another five minutes, and then grabbed the athame from his left. He brought the blade to his right hand, and made a cut along his palm. He squeezed his hand into a fist and held it over the cauldron, setting the knife down with his other hand. He then chanted again in the same unknown language. When he was done, the wind swept across his home in anger, then stopped in mid breeze. The trees looked very interesting, like a movie on pause. Harry got up off his knees and looked around. When he turned around fully, he saw what he was looking for-The Angel of Death.

The Angel of Death, whom Harry had met six months previously, was using his last appearance to Harry. Harry could tell that The Angel preferred this look. The image of a man. Six foot, one hundred eighty pounds. He could see that The Angel preferred to be well built. The disguise or look-whatever you call it-had long blonde hair down to the chin, which was strong. The nose itself was strong as well, along with piercing brown eyes. The lips were still full, and the face was well framed. The Angel was still wearing all black, preferring now to wear a nice black body shirt, black slacks and shoes, though still keeping the nice black trench coat.

The Angel of Death didn't look annoyed with Harry, but he did look concerned. Harry was giving him a dark look, and he knew that if Harry tried to attack him, he wouldn't be able to scare him into submission this time. He also knew that Harry would attempt to commit suicide if he didn't get what he wanted. So, this time, he would play dumb.

"Why have you summoned me, Harry Potter?" he asked.

Harry kept giving him the same dark look of determination and anger.

"You know what I want." Harry said darkly.

"And what would that be?" The Angel asked dumbly.

"God dammit! Give me back Draco!" Harry said loudly.

The Angel sighed at this remark, knowing full well that Harry knew the answer to his request.

"You know that I can't do that Harry." The Angel said.

"And why not? You're The Angel of Death for Christ's sakes!" Harry yelled, his hands forming into fists.

"Exactly!" The Angel said smartly. "You know that _I_ don't have the power to do what you ask. Only the Ascended Ones can do that. Or The Cup of Salazar."

Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed with Death already.

"Except that I can't use that, now can I?" Harry said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, but that isn't my problem." The Angel said, being blunt.

"Yes it is. Because I want answers. And you are going to give them to me." Harry said threateningly.

The Angel of Death wasn't frightened, but he was getting annoyed.

"I'm sorry Harry. But I can't provide the answers that you seek." The Angel replied.

"Yes you can! You were forged in the Inferno-" Harry tried to explain.

"And like every other deity, I was given a specific amount of information." The Angel explained. "I was also given a specific task, one that never ends. So, I cannot give you the answers to your questions. And I cannot fulfill your demands."

"Then who can?" Harry asked angrily.

"I can." a new voice said.

Harry and the Angel looked over to see a familiar sight to both of them. Right there, standing in the middle of Harry's lawn, was Albus Dumbledore. He was still wearing the same damn flowing purple robes, along with his half-moon spectacles. His beard was still white as snow and still as long as it was before he died. His nose was a little less crooked than before, but it still looked like it had been broken. His piercing blue eyes however didn't hold their usual twinkle. And that scared Harry.

"Leave us." Dumbledore said.

The Angel nodded and left them in a wisp. Harry and Dumbledore were staring at one another, their eyes locked.

"What is it you want to know, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, without any kindness in his voice.

Harry didn't need to prepare himself to ask what he wanted to know.

"Why did Draco have to die?" Harry asked softly.

Harry was giving Dumbledore a dark blazing look. Dumbledore knew that if he didn't give Harry the answers he wanted, he was going to kill himself. Or so he thought.

"Because Harry, it was his destiny." Dumbledore explained.

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Dumbledore was being a complete hypocrite.

"That makes no sense." Harry said, shaking his head in denial.

"Life isn't supposed to make sense Harry. Neither is death." Dumbledore explained again.

"Then why?" Harry asked.

"Because Harry…" Dumbledore explained, "if he didn't die, then you wouldn't be able to do the things you are meant to do."

Harry could tell that Dumbledore was having a tough time. He could also tell that he was holding something back. Something terrible.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked darkly.

"Harry, you have a great destiny to fulfill. You of all people know that." Dumbledore explained.

Harry glared at him.

"I. Hate. Destiny. You of all people should know that." Harry said angrily.

"True." Dumbledore said. "But you also know that you cannot escape this…no matter what you'd like to believe."

Harry stared at him in disbelief. Dumbledore was truly becoming a hypocrite.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You're not my father!" Harry said angrily.

"You're right. I'm not." Dumbledore countered, getting angry. "But guess what Harry? They're dead! They died to save you! They died knowing that you would be the one to save us all!"

Harry stared in disbelief and anger. Dumbledore would never have yelled at him like that before.

"What the fuck are you talking about! Voldemort is dead!" Harry explained, angry.

"You're right! But you still are the one that will save everyone!" Dumbledore explained, half-yelling.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, frustrated and confused.

Dumbledore sighed.

"Do you remember a prophecy that you read six months ago?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yeah…something about destruction and balance. What's that got to do with me?" Harry asked, confused.

"Everything." Dumbledore explained. "You see Harry, The Oracle of Delphi was talking about someone that would be known as the Keeper of the Balance. The Keeper, in turn, was going to restore Order and Balance to the Grand Design."

Harry's patience was beginning to wear thin.

"And what is the Grand Design?" Harry asked.

"The Grand Design is everything and nothing." Dumbledore explained. "It is a scale Harry. It is the thing that decides how much death and destruction there is in the world. It decides how much life and beauty stays. It decides, how much power good and evil have."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Harry asked.

"Everything." Dumbledore replied. "You are the Keeper of the Balance. You are supposed to restore balance to the Grand Design."

At this point, Dumbledore knew that he went to far.

"And what the fuck makes you think that I am going to do that!" Harry asked angrily.

"You have no choice, Harry!" Dumbledore yelled.

"You told me once that prophecy doesn't matter!" Harry argued.

"Unfortunately, in this case, it does." Dumbledore said coldly.

Harry knew then and there that his former mentor was hiding something else from him.

"You know something else, don't you?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore's eyes became widened with shock.

"Harry I-" Dumbledore tried to say.

"What do you know?" Harry shrieked.

At this point, Dumbledore knew that it was futile to try to hide the truth from him. So, he gave in.

"Harry, The Others…" Dumbledore explained, "they figured that you wouldn't be able to fulfill your destiny if Draco was around-"

"You killed him?" Harry whispered.

"I didn't know what they were going to do-" Dumbledore said defensively.

"You let him die?" Harry whispered, utterly shocked.

"Harry…I fought for you and Draco. I knew that if he died, you wouldn't be able to do what was necessary-"

"You let him die. How could you?" Harry asked, knowing he wouldn't ever receive an answer.

"I had no choice-" Dumbledore tried to say.

"BULLSHIT! There's always a choice! What else did you do!" Harry asked angrily.

"Harry I-"

"You were the one that manipulated everyone!" Harry said in realization. "You're the powerful…oh god, you're an Ascended one, aren't you?"

"Harry-" Dumbledore tried.

"Get away from me." Harry said darkly.

Dumbledore looked at him in shock. He truly couldn't believe that the young man that he cared for like a son was doing this.

"What?" Dumbledore asked.

"Get away from me. Now." Harry said again.

"Harry, let me-" Dumbledore tried again.

"Get. Away. From. Me. Now." Harry said with pure loathing.

"Please, let me-" Dumbledore begged.

"Go." Harry said one last time.

Dumbledore knew at this point that his adopted son wouldn't listen to him. He also knew that he was never going to be thought of as his beloved mentor ever again. He knew, and he gave in, letting the tears start falling.

"I'm sorry." Dumbledore said quietly.

After that, Dumbledore disappeared in a wisp, just like the Angel of Death.

The breeze soon came back and settled down. Harry was still standing still, fuming in anger and grief. He knew that his quest, however futile, was now over. He quickly turned around in anger and kicked the cauldron over. He then dropped down to his hands and knees, crying, letting his tears of salt drop into the earth. And then, in a great wave of despair, he got back onto his knees, his face pointing to the heavens, and cried out in agony and grief, knowing that Draco was truly dead.


	2. The Memo

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

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Hey everyone, this is Jami, posting on behalf of the author. The author already wrote out what he needed to, and is asking me to post on his behalf for awhile, due to one of his family members being in the hospital. Pray for him and his family member!

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A/N-Hey there everyone! Just to let you know, just like it says in the alert, this is an interlude, where some of the previous story is reviewed and new information is revealed. Trust me, read this very carefully...cause you might have a heart attack if you don't.

Anyway, I shall now give thanks to the two people who reviewed...that's right only two!

**Heath Wolff:** I am so glad that you like my stories thus far. Hopefully I can live up to your expectations in this part of the Trilogy. And I'm feel stangely cool that I make you think of Morgan Freeman...I love his voice as well! As for Draco being dead, well, you'll just have to read and find out.

**ShellyD1982:** Ah, yay, my number 1 fan is back! Anyway, I'm hoping that I'll live up to or exceed your expectations with this story. I can promise you more action and intrigue! I can also promise you that Draco will be making appearences. Hope you like the interlude!

Now, I will say this once and only once! I expect five reviews, or I will not update. It's that simple. Only because I want to hear what everyone has to say.

So remember, five reviews, new chapter.

As usual, I thank my betas **iamanevilgenius** and **i am the muse of the evil genius** for their fabulous work.

Oh, and just so I give fair warning, you will want to kill me at the end of this chapter. But please don't!

And now, I present, the Interlude!

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**_Interoffice Memo_  
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**To**: James Westmere, President of the United States

**From**: Kevin Rayis, Director of National Intelligence

**Date**: November 25th, 2008

**Subject**: Review of Personnel Files from Black Operation Wizard Intelligence Agency

Mr. President-

As per your request after your debriefing, I have pulled and copied several files pertaining to agents in the Black Operation known as the Wizard Intelligence Agency.

Please review these **carefully** and **diligently**. Also know that they are considered Top Secret, and no one must know that you have these, as you do not have proper security clearance yet.

Thank you.

**Attached**: Personnel Files of Harold James Potter and Jonathan Mitchell Wiseman. Also attached is an Information file regarding Draconis Eric Malfoy.

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Personnel File # 101101011101-819623825-81A96

**Agent Name**: Potter, Harold James A.K.A. Garret Bristow

**Agent DOB**: 07/31/1980

**Agent Status**:

Inactive, Paid Medical Leave due to events during the month of October of 2008. Will remain inactive until April 1st, 2009.

**Education**:

Bachelors Degree in Criminal Justice, Minors in Criminal Profiling and Forensic Science. Graduated with Honors. -John Jay College of Criminal Justice

High School Level GED

Completed six of seven years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (note, it is unknown why he didn't graduate)

Primary School of Little Whinging, Surrey, England.

**Training Background**:

Weapons:

Agent Potter has received extensive weapons training, ranging from firearms to melee.

He has been considered an expert in using Glock 18 semi-automatic pistols. He is also highly experienced with most shotguns, including the SPAS-12, as well as most automatic rifles. He is considered an expert marksman, second to only Lydia Rourke.

He is considered to be highly experienced with Japanese swordsmanship, having used a katana on more than one occasion. It is unknown when or how he learned these skills.

He is also considered to be highly proficient in using sai, Bo staff, long swords, knives, and daggers.

His wand (Holly, Eleven Inches, core contains phoenix feather)-is considered a highly dangerous weapon. Agent Potter has been known to use this as a last resort.

Combat:

Agent Potter has received extensive martial arts training. He is not a master or expert in any form, but is considered proficient in Krav Maga, Kung Fu, Jujitsu, Karate, Tai Kwan Do and Aikido.

Magic:

Agent Potter is considered highly proficient in "Anti-Dark Arts" spells, knowing almost every counter-curse and anti-jinx in the world. He is also known for using a few dark spells, but nothing lethal.

Note: Agent Potter has confessed to knowing a Dark Spell created by one Severus Snape, a former teacher of Agent Potter's. This spell is powerful, causing some people to have been nearly eviscerated.

Languages:

Agent Potter is able to speak many languages fluently. He is able to speak both dialects of Spanish, German, French, Italian, Japanese, Cantonese, Mandarin, Russian, Farsi, Hebrew and Parseltounge (snake language.)

Note: It is unknown how Agent Potter is able to talk to snakes.

**Physical Profile**:

Agent Potter is in perfect health, however, there are noticeable anomalies in his genetic structure. No one can describe what he or she is seeing or what he has. However, it does seem tied in with his magical ability, but nothing else can be described any further.

**Psychological Profile**:

Agent Potter is considered to be depressed. No medication has been prescribed to him. He is also considered to be suicidal at times. His medical leave is due to his depression.

**Notes**:

Agent Potter is considered to be the best field agent that the Agency has had in many years. His skills have successfully shut down many terrorist and illegal operations, including the operation of one Arthur Cortez, who was finally imprisoned in Costa Rica for his war crimes.

Agent Potter is also considered to be a loose cannon, due to his many instances of insubordination to both higher authority and rules of engagement. However, it is due to both of these traits that many of our regulations have been changed or rewritten.

Agent Potter has but one rival, Carly Peyton. This is considered an alias, since Peyton's true name is now long forgotten due to her records being sealed in the SVR headquarters in Moscow. A former KGB agent, she turned renegade in 1989. She is considered extremely dangerous. Agent Potter has had her in custody once, but she escaped.

Recently in October of 2008 Agent Potter turned rogue due to corruption within our own government department known as the National Security Council. The ranks were penetrated by a mole, who has been identified as former Assistant Director Michael Cameron, who was working with the terrorist group known as Resurrection. Further investigation has revealed that there is a possibility of another double agent.

As mentioned before, due to this double agent, Agent Potter was manipulated into turning rouge. One of these manipulations was the capture of Draconis Malfoy, with whom Agent Potter had a relationship. Further investigation reveals that Agent Potter may have had a hand in the escape of Mr. Malfoy, but it is uncertain. Further investigation also reveals that it is because of the efforts of both of them that Resurrection was shut down.

The Man, who is presumed to be the assassin Alexander Foley, also known as Angel, is presumed deceased, along with Mr. Malfoy. The Man, who was the leader of the organization, was killed by Agent Potter, via decapitation.

Neither of their bodies have been found.

**Recommendation**:

It is recommended by Jonathan Wiseman, Agent Potter's handler, and Dr. Meghan Legaspi, Agent Potter's psychologist, that Agent Potter be allowed to return to active duty in April of 2009. It is also recommended by both of them that he be promoted and replace Director Wiseman as Director of Operations.

It is also recommended by Langley that Agent Potter be suspended indefinitely, due to his numerous acts of insubordination.

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Personnel File # 11001010110010101-54897321-44G22

**Agent Name**: Wiseman, Jonathan Mitchell

**Agent DOB**: 02/07/1951

**Agent Status**:

Active, will retire in April of 2009 due to recent events.

**Education**:

M.S.-Criminal Psychology-Honors-Harvard University

B.S.- Criminal Justice-Honors-Harvard University

High School Diploma

**Training Background**:

Weapons:

Director Wiseman is considered highly proficient in using most firearms. He is also considered an above average marksman. However, he has not been in a field operation in seven years, so it is unknown whether or not he is still as good as his record states.

He is considered highly proficient in the use of knives and daggers.

His wand (pine, nine inches, unicorn hair in the core), which is considered a weapon by many, is used as a last resort. When used, it has dangerous effects. In one instance, using this weapon caused several explosions.

Combat:

Director Wiseman is considered highly proficient in Krav Maga, and a master of Karate.

Magic:

Although he is considered highly dangerous with his wand, Director Wiseman is a master of the Healing arts. This art though cannot save someone from poisoning, or evisceration.

Languages:

Director Wiseman is fluent in Cantonese, Italian, French, Spanish (Castilian) and German.

**Physical Profile**: SEALED

**Psychological Profile**: SEALED

**Notes**: SEALED

**Recommendation**:

It is recommended that Director Wiseman step down from his post and allow Agent Harold Potter to take his place, due to their close friendship and of Agent Potter's skills. Director Wiseman agrees with this recommendation.

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INFORMATION File 1000101011001-5254682-858D26

**Name**: Malfoy, Draconis Eric A.K.A. Draco Malfoy A.K.A. Blondie A.K.A. Daniel Riker

**DOB**: 06/09/1980

**Status**:

Missing, presumed deceased.

**Education**:

Six years of seven at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, no other information at this time.

**Physical Profile**:

Considered to be in perfect health, however he does have the abnormality known as Dextrocardia. He does not seem to have any cardiac abnormalities.

**Psychological Profile**: SEALED

**Notes**:

Assisted Agent Harold Potter in the dismantling of the organization known as Resurrection in October of 2008. During this, he contracted methanol poisoning by personnel running the facility known as The Funeral Home, which is run by the National Security Council. He was also shot four times, as witnessed by Agent Potter.

Agent Potter claims to have seen Mr. Malfoy die, and that he was in fact shot in the heart. It is unknown whether or not he knows about Mr. Malfoy's Dextrocardia.

Further investigation into Mr. Malfoy's death has shown that he is possibly related to Alexander Foley, but is not yet confirmed.

Further investigation has also revealed that a man fitting Mr. Malfoy's description was sighted in southwest Asia, on a gurney. All witnesses are now dead. They were ruled as suicides.

** Recommendation**:

It is highly recommended by Langley to investigate Mr. Malfoy's death, as he may be alive according to many eyewitness accounts.

It is also recommended that no one within the WIA know of this investigation, due to Agent Potter's past.


	3. Chapter 1: Secrets and Return

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

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A/N: Hello everyone, this is Jami, posting on behalf of the author, as per his instructions. He would be posting this later, but due to his aunt being in the hospital, he actually can't right now. He is telling me to post this chapter, along with the next two over the weekend. He is sorry that he couldn't be here in person to do this.

First off, the author would like to thank his beta's, **iamanevilgenius** and **i am the muse of the evil genius**, for their work and their great patience.

Second, he would like to thank the reviewers.

**Heath Wolff:** The author is very glad that you liked the previous chapter, along with the story so far, although he is wondering what voice will be narrating the story next...he likes to guess. Right now he thinks it will be a woman...

**otaku3kagome:** The author is glad that you like the story, but he wishes to pick your brain and find out why you like it.

**ShellyD1982:** The author wishes to say that he is glad that you are sticking around. He also wants to say that Harry didn't have to learn the stuff, he chose to...and apparently that will be explained later on. He also says that you should keep reading between the lines and try to figure out why he is being chosen to take over.

The author also wishes to say that you might want to kill him after you read chapter two...but that will be posted on either friday or saturday, I have to wait for his instruction.

In his fashion, I am declaring the musical theme for this chapter to be-

_Superstition-Stevie Wonder_

And also in his fashion

"I present: Chapter 1"

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5:58 PM.

That was the time that Harry's bedside alarm clock showed. It was exactly two minutes from when he needed to get up and out of bed. He knew that his alarm was going to go off in two minutes, yet he couldn't bring himself to move. If he did, then…well, he didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew that he didn't want to get out of bed.

'Oh well.'

Harry switched off his alarm and got out of bed. For some reason, he gave in to his urge to look at himself in the mirror. One thing that frightened him beyond anything was that his eyesight had decided to start correcting himself soon after Draco died. He at first, he could start seeing things farther away from him, and then it turned into seeing things up close. Soon, he could see everything in perfect detail. He chose to visit an optomitrist at some point, asking them what the hell was happening. They couldn't explain it, but they pretty much said that his body was correcting itself, and that he would soon have twenty-twenty vision. Looking himself over now was a daily ritual, just so he could tell himself that he could do it. Wearing only his boxers, he could see that his figure hadn't changed too much in the past six months, although he was looking a little paler, due to the fact that he hadn't been outside very much. His hair had decided to have a mind of it's own again and not grow an inch, leaving it long enough to be styled in a more professional manner, but short enough for him to wear wigs…if such a need ever arose. But what was more unusual, was the fact that it still wouldn't let go of the hair dyed color that Harry had used on it six months ago, leaving it light brown instead of jet black.

This still slightly disturbed him.

He was still in excellent shape, and his physical appearance would make every woman and a great deal of men drool. His muscle tone wasn't too showy and the giant tattoo on his back made him even sexier. Though if you looked closely, you could see the various scars all along his body, which ranged from getting shot, to stabbed and cut, to even a javelin pole being impaled through his leg.

'So much has happened to me,' Harry thought. 'I'm surprised that I'm not dead yet.'

After a few more minutes of staring, Harry changed into a pair of dark grey sweatpants, a white shirt with cut-off sleeves, and placed tennis shoes on his feet. He then walked downstairs from the second floor into the basement.

A normal basement usually holds junk. Harry's, however, was a full on gym, filled with weights, a bench press (which was charmed to let him bench alone, so he would never need a spot), a treadmill, a jump rope, various swords, sai, knives, a few Bo staffs (all of which were charmed to spar with him) and a stereo.

Harry first went over to the stereo and pushed play, letting Stevie Wonder calm him. Today, he stretched, ran, benched, and jumped rope. All the while, he never let himself lose focus about today. Today was the day that he went back to work. Today was the day that he would allow himself to finally move on with his life, especially after what he had learned the night before.

What motivated him even more however, was his hatred for Dumbledore.

But he let that go for now.

As soon as he was done with his workout, Harry ran upstairs to his master bathroom and turned on the shower. Stripping slowly due to the sweat all over his body, Harry allowed himself a little breather before stepping into the stall and closing the glass door. The shower relaxed his mind and body, allowing himself to breathe more than he had six months ago, when he…no, he wouldn't think about that. Not now.

Not right now.

He washed himself thoroughly, letting the hot water caress his skin. Today, this shower would represent his cleansing, his new beginning, much like his workout did. Once he was done, he dried off quickly and brushed his teeth. He then moved back into his bedroom to get dressed.

His bedroom held brand a new semi-dark oak dresser, twin nightstands and king sized bed, complete with a nice navy blue bed-spread and pillows. The room was far more decorative than his previous one, filled with a few photographs of Draco, Angela and various others. The room itself was square, but big enough to hold two windows, one of which led out onto the garage rooftop. On the wall above headboard was a copy of Van Gough's Starry Night, which he found to be relaxing.

Harry went straight into his closet and pulled out a few items before realizing that he had no idea whether or not he wanted to go casual (which was usually frowned upon, due to the fact that most of the people who work there wear suits and are very uptight) or to wear a suit. After flipping several coins, eeny meenie miney mo and randomly pointing, he decided that casual was better, deciding to wear a tight, long-sleeved black body shirt, jeans, socks, tennis shoes and a tan corduroy jacket. He had his cell phone and his black leather band watch to accessorize. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses off his dresser and headed downstairs and into his garage.

Technically, the garage was made for three cars, but it only held two and the motorcycle. Opening the door in front of it (the far end, away from the entrance to his house), he put on his sunglasses, which had yellow lenses instead of the traditional black. He hopped on the motorcycle, turned over the engine and took off, shutting his garage door with his remote. His driveway was actually a sixth of a mile long, and at the end there was a gate. Pulling over after he reached it, he lifted the cover off a keypad, which commanded his security systems. He put in the activation code and drove down further onto Lilac Dr, which would lead him to the highway.

Once on the highway, he weaved through traffic easily, due to sheer luck and years of practice. That and he had to, due to his being nearly late. It took him thirty-five minutes to get to his exit, not due to traffic, but due to the fact that his home was farther away from work. Once he was off his exit, he drove down the road until he reached what looked like a service entrance for cargo transports. Making sure to flash his headlights when he went through the gates, he suddenly saw a tunnel appear before him, disillusioning itself.

Harry drove through the tunnel and found that this was longer than he thought it was. This was a two-way tunnel, with yellow lights everywhere, but there were also red ones, scanning him for contraband. It took him ten minutes to reach the end of the tunnel, but it was worth it in the end, because there were only a few cars parked there. Once he found a parking spot, he turned off the bike, took off his sunglasses and walked to the set of elevator doors on the far end of the lot.

Once inside the elevator, Harry pushed the "SB" button that would take him to the center known as WIA Operations Command, or OPS for short. Harry's breathing and demeanor was calm, but inside Harry was more nervous than a schoolgirl asking her crush to the dance. He was wondering at a fast pace whether or not he was ready for this, whether or not he really wanted to do this. In the end, he decided he was, and the elevator doors opened, revealing a hallway before him. Harry exited into the hallway, following it down to the end, where there was a door with a keypad and thumbprint scanner above the handle. He typed in a code that was given to him and then let his thumbprint be scanned.

"Identity Confirmed. Welcome, Agent Potter." the lock said.

Harry turned the handle and opened the door. Before walking through, he took a moment to take it all in again. See, OPS is built into a giant decagon, each with ten doors with specific numbers. ONE and TWO are doors to the elevators. THREE leads into the OP-TECH room. FOUR is briefing/debriefing room. FIVE the shooting ranges, SIX leading to another parking garage. SEVEN leading into the locker/cot rooms and EIGHT leading to the weapons lock-up. NINE leading to Archives and TEN goes into Director of Operations Jonathan Wiseman's office.In the middle of the giant decagon was a giant pillar, which held six monitors at ten feet high around it. At the bottom were six computer terminals, complete with radio communication devices for people in the field. The six "Operators" were there as well, doing their best and making sure that none of the field agents were killed. Around this pillar were all the desks for the agents that worked here, which held computer terminals, phones, pads of paper and many, many file folders, along with many personal items here and there.

Harry went through and walked toward SEVEN, which led to his desk. His desk was more isolated than most, due to his brooding. It was cleaner than the last time that he had been there, and it was certainly darker and impressive looking, matching the grey stone along the walls, ceiling and floor. Although, it occurred to him that someone finally took up occupancy in the desk across from his, and someone had taken a desk to the left of that person.

'Better not bother me.' He thought.

Just as he was about to sit down, his name was called.

"Agent Potter. Please make your way to the briefing room." A voice called.

Harry turned around to find no one there. He shrugged and walked over to the room. Once there, he found that there were only three people there. One was Jonathan Wiseman, his handler and Director of Operations, who was sitting in his usual chair in the front of the room. The second was surprisingly Lydia Rourke, his former partner and good friend, who was sitting in a chair across from Wiseman. The third person he didn't recognize, but he could tell that this guy was nervous.

Lydia was still five foot four, although it did look like she gained some muscle. Her hair, which had been down to her shoulder blades and light brown, was now cut up to her shoulders and blond. Her brown eyes somehow accentuated her thin nose and thin lips, and her feminine features weren't being showed off through her black suit. He wondered why she was wearing one.

Jack was still wearing his hair short, but the pepper was gone completely, and only white remained. He had gotten thinner since the last time he saw him, but he still hadn't lost his bulky build. His eyes were still a piercing grey-blue, and he was still wearing his signature grey suit, complete with silver watch.

The third man was at least six foot, one hundred seventy pounds. Average build. His dark brown hair and boyish features made him very good looking, and made Harry realize that this must be a rookie. The kid was wearing a pinstripe suit and no watch.

Harry smiled and sat down next to Lydia. She gave him a quick smile and turned her attention at Jack.

"Agent Potter, let me say that it's good to have you back." Jack said, trying to be formal.

Harry just nodded his head.

"Now, if any of you don't feel that you're ready, I suggest that you leave now." Jack said, looking around the room.

No one left.

"Good." Jack said, smiling, "Let's get started."

Jack hit a few keys on his keyboard and the pulled up pictures on the master terminal. The first image that showed up was a picture of a warehouse.

"This is Warehouse 342, which was seized from a new criminal element on the rise. About six months ago Langley sent in an undercover agent into the new element, hoping to investigate further. This warehouse was seized from the information provided by him. Inside were weapon parts, lethal amounts of nerve gas and oddly enough, brooms. To be more precise, Comet Three-Twenties.

"About a week ago, the undercover agent initiated contact with his handler, stating that he needed extraction. Since this is now a Wizarding matter, you three will be extracting him.

"He will meet you here" Jack explained, showing them a picture of a building that Harry didn't recognize, "The Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg, Russia. More details will be given to you on your flight, which leaves in two hours. Good luck."

Jack turned off the monitor and walked out of the room. While he was walking, Harry noticed that he was leaning on the table, but that didn't bother him as much as having to work with whoever the new guy was. Harry followed him out of the door and ran to catch up to him. When he did, he didn't need to grab him, or even stop him at all. He just walked with him like nothing was wrong.

"Jack, I don't like this." Harry said bluntly.

"What? You don't want to work here? Or the op?" Jack asked, concerned.

"No, not them." Harry said, "I mean that new guy."

Jack nodded his head in understanding, still walking toward his office.

"His name is Michael Jeffries. He's a rookie, fresh and eager. Plus, he wasn't assigned to you by me." Jack explained, sounding annoyed.

"What?" Harry asked, confused.

"The NSC assigned him to you. Most likely to keep an eye on you. Besides, this'll be good for you." Jack said, being cruel in a funny way.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it." Harry said, pouting.

"True." Jack said.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to Jack's office. When they were in front of the door, Harry stopped Jack from going in.

"One more thing." Harry said.

"Hm?" Jack sounded, curious.

"Why'd you lean on the table?" Harry asked.

"Another time Harry. You have a plane to catch." Jack said.

Jack opened the door and walked in.

"Jack…" Harry said threateningly.

"We'll talk when you get back. I promise." Jack said, shutting the door on him.


	4. Chapter 2: Flight and Fright

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

Hello everyone, this is Jami again. The author says he will reply to you all when he himself posts chapter three, and hopes that you are all having great patience with him.

He says that he would like to thank his beta's, **iamanevilgenius** and** i am the muse of the evil genius** for their patience and their fantastic work.

The musical theme for the chapter is _Adagio for Strings_ by Samuel Barber.

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Harry, Michael and Lydia were on the plane four hours later, flying somewhere over the Midwestern United States. Harry was looking out the window (which was actually more like staring into nothing). Lydia was sitting to his left, typing away on her laptop, looking over the finer details of the op. Across and to the right, Michael was fidgeting, which annoyed Harry to no end, whilst reading a book. Though what had begun to annoy Harry the most was the fact that his personal Demon, disguised as Draco, was sitting right across from him.

The Demon portrayed Draco perfectly, right down to the barely noticeable dimple on his right cheek when he smirked. The bullet holes in his chest, abdomen and leg were the exact shape and size that they were when he died. Blood covered the entity, even the handprints that Harry had made when he himself was covered in Draco's blood where still there.

Seeing this made Harry want to vomit. Every. Single. Time.

It wasn't saying anything, just smirking at him maliciously. It had been doing so since the beginning of the flight. Harry had half a mind to groan in annoyance and frustration, but he knew that would raise some eyebrows. Harry also knew for sure that he wasn't crazy, but that didn't quell his fear and doubt. Mostly because crazy people say the same thing.

His fear increased ten-fold when the thing started to talk.

"Hello Harry," it said. "did you miss me?"

Harry didn't reply and continued to stare out the window. Another thing that bothered him was that it sounded exactly like Draco.

"Oh, I'm sure you did. Especially after you learned that I'm dead, and I'm going to stay that way. And I'm sure that you know that you can't do jack shit about that."

Harry shifted in his seat to fact the entity.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to talk to me? Are you afraid Harry? Is your fear making you do this? Are you worried that you'll look crazy? Trust me, you are!"

Harry gave in and groaned. He was starting to get a headache. Lydia and Michael looked at him curiously.

"Better think fast Harry!" the Demon exclaimed. "You don't want the world to know that you're a freaking loony, do you?"

"I have a headache. I need a drink. You two want anything?" Harry asked, praying that his excuse would work.

Lydia and Michael seemed to take forever with their responses. To Harry, it seemed that hours were passing, instead of just a few seconds.

'What the hell are they waiting for?' Harry thought. 'Do they suspect something? Do they know? Oh god!'

"Just some water." Michael said finally.

"A beer, if there is any." Lydia said. "If not, some chardonnay."

Harry sighed and put on a face to make it seem like he was annoyed with Lydia's answer.

"Hey Harry, I'd like your soul in Hell for eternity!" the Demon said.

Harry got up from his seat abruptly and walked over to where the mini-bar was. After a few minutes of searching for Michael's water (and more importantly, Lydia's beer), Harry poured himself a glass of scotch with ice. He stood there for a few moments, resting against the bar.

'I'm not crazy. I'm not.' He thought.

Harry knew that if he kept telling himself that, he would be fine. If he kept telling himself that, the entity would vanish, and it wouldn't be there when he went back to the seat. If he kept telling himself that, it would be true.

He placed his glass of scotch against his forehead, numbing his throbbing headache. To him, this was getting to be too much. First the facts that the NSC assigned him a new partner-a rookie of all people-to keep an eye on him. Then there was the fact that Jack was hiding something from him. And then the damn Demon was there tormenting and annoying him. And then there was Dumbledore and his constant manipulation.

And that was what reminded him of what he was. A person of free will. A person who saved the world on occasion. A person. Not some God-forsaken idiot who was supposed to be manipulated. And that is what was going to motivate him for the rest of his life.

He grabbed the drinks and brought them back to the seats. Once he sat down again, he noticed that the Demon was gone. Harry smiled and took a sip of his drink.

"Feel better?" Lydia asked.

"Much. Thanks." Harry replied.

Lydia nodded and closed her laptop. She took a drink from her bottle and set it down loudly, probably trying to get Michael's attention. Harry couldn't tell if she was attracted to him, or if she was just trying to mess with his head. He himself couldn't really figure out the kid. Michael admitted to being twenty-one years old, majored in English in college and that he was considered the all around American guy. But what Harry couldn't figure out was why he wanted to join the WIA in the first place. This kid seemed to be very nervous about doing anything at all. But then again, he was probably nervous about being next to what many people had called "The two best agents to ever come into the Agency," which made sense to Harry.

But he still wondered why on earth this kid would join. He didn't seem like the type of person who could handle the pressure of being a field agent. This kid looked like he would be able to fit in with the people in the Accounting Department over at Langley.

Fortunately, his thoughts were interrupted when Lydia snatched the book from his hands and threw it to the back of the plane.

"Hey!" Michael said angrily.

"Quiet you." Lydia said forcefully, pointing her finger at him.

It was at that point that Harry's question was answered. She was slightly attracted to him, but more importantly, she was just trying to get his attention. Harry chuckled at this and Lydia smacked him in the arm, knowing what he was laughing at. He started to rub his arm while she started talking.

"We have to be especially careful, since the theater is going to be full of civilians."

"I'm not so sure. I have a feeling that this guy is going to be followed." Harry said.

"Why do you think that?" Michael asked.

Harry and Lydia gave him a look that said "What the fuck?"

"Their warehouse was shut down because of him. They, whoever they are, are bound to be after him by now." Lydia explained, patronizing him.

Michael nodded his head and blushed furiously. Harry could tell that he was feeling like a total idiot for his question. Harry gave him a reassuring nod, knowing that he had asked stupid questions when he was a rookie as well.

"Moving on." Lydia said. "This is definitely going to have to be routine. Well need the front entrance covered. Both inside and out."

"All right. I'll approach then." Harry said. "You can cover from the outside. Jeffries can cover from the inside, posing as a guard. You can stay out and cover us from a distance."

"Sounds good."

"So where's the target going to be?" Harry asked.

"Let's see…" Lydia trailed, opening her laptop. "He's going to be in the first gallery circle, box fifteen, seat number four. And no one else has seats there except for us. So you'll be fine going in."

Harry nodded. He looked at Michael, who was getting pale. Harry could tell that he was nervous, not just because he was with Lydia and himself, but because that this was going to be his first field operation. Harry put on a reassuring smile and moved to sit next to the rookie. He placed his hand on the kid's shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Trust me, you'll be fine." Harry said. "You're with us."

Michael nodded sheepishly.

Harry moved back to his own seat. He could only hope that he could keep his word. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lydia pull out a purse. In another instant, she pulled out a deck of cards.

"So, who wants to play Gin Rummy?" Lydia asked.

Both men jumped up to the request, knowing that she wouldn't take no for an answer.

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Harry and Lydia always asked why the Accounting Department at the Agency always bitched about the spending that occurred during field operations. Harry now could see why.

Their safe house was located in the very expensive four-star hotel in the presidential suite. The suite itself contained a kitchenette, a small dining room, living room, two full bathrooms, two bedrooms and furnished with the most expensive furniture and art that money could buy.

But what made Harry smirk was the fact that there was a lot of god and red around the room, reminding him of his days at Hogwarts.

The flight was almost twenty hours long, with one layover in Amsterdam. So as soon as the three of them arrived, Lydia and Michael claimed the bedrooms and fell asleep on the beds, while Harry slept on the couch, grateful. He fell asleep right away, lightly snoring.

But what bothered Harry at this point was the dream he was having.

He was standing in a large white room. In the center was a clear plastic curtain, circling what looked like a person on a hospital bed. Harry could see that people were hustling around, all of them covered in white haz-mat suits. He could see that there were at least twelve people in the room, and there were two beside the person's bed.

Harry moved slowly toward the curtain, trying to get a better view of the person lying on the bed. He pulled the curtain open and gasped. The person was covered in tubes and monitors. Most of them he could recognize. He could tell that there were catheters draining urine and other fluids, including what looked like plasma, an anesthesia machine which was delivering nitrous oxide, a ventilator, delivering oxygen through the ET tube down the person's throat, a feeding tube giving the person liquidized food, a saline line giving him fluids to keep the person hydrated and other lines giving the person some other kind of drugs. He could also see that there was a long and thin tube sticking out of the person's body, going into some kind of container. The liquid going through the tube was a purplish color, but it looked very sickly. He could also see that the person in question was hooked up to EEG and EKG monitors. He could see that the EKG was giving off normal readings, but the EEG looked almost dead. He knew that this meant that this person was brain dead.

Harry moved closer to the two people talking. He looked inside the helmets to see who they were, but couldn't see clearly enough, though he could tell that they were a man and a woman, and that they were deep in discussion.

"Was it a success?" The woman asked.

Harry could tell that this woman was Russian, only because her accent was slight. But he could also tell that he knew this woman. He recognized her voice, but he just couldn't remember for the life of him.

"Yes." The man replied. "The first one was created. The team is doing more testing to be sure that it's for real, but I know it's a success."

Harry didn't recognize this man, but the only thing he could tell was that this man was British.

"What's the next step?" The woman asked.

"Wait. If this one is the right one, then we'll create more." The man replied.

"And what about the patient?" The woman asked.

"When we are done with him, we dispose of him. No one must find him." The man explained.

Harry didn't know what they were talking about, but he could tell that it was important. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed him. He looked to see that it was the patient, who was starting to look very familiar. He could see that the patient was at least five foot ten, at least one hundred and sixty pounds. The patient had a gown on, but he could see that there was a scar from a gunshot wound on his left leg. He looked at the face, and his eyes widened with shock.

It was Draco.

"Harry." Draco whispered.

It was at this moment that Harry woke up, gasping for air and sitting upright. His body was covered in sweat, and his eyes were stinging with tears. He was breathing hard, and he was frightened beyond belief. He didn't know if the dream was real, but it was still frightening.

Lydia came out of her room seconds later, running to him in nothing but her robe. She placed a comforting hand on his back and started rubbing it.

"You okay?" Lydia asked.

Harry nodded. He looked at her, and he could see that she knew that he was lying. Lydia walked over to the kitchenette and got a glass of water for him to drink. Once she brought back, he drank it in a few seconds. He put the glass down onto the coffee table and sighed.

"You sure you're okay?" Lydia asked.

"Yeah. I just had a bad dream, that's all." Harry said, not completely lying.

Lydia gave him a hard look and left to go back into her room. Harry moved over to where his coat was and rummaged through it. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter and moved out onto the balcony. He pulled a cigarette out and lit it, inhaling the sweet nectar of nicotine. He was calmer, but still freaked out.

'It's going to be a long night.' He thought.


	5. Chapter 3: Death and Bloodlust

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

A/N- Hi everyone, I'm back only to post this chapter. It's a very stressful time for me, and I will probably be taking a brief hiatus, depending on what happens in my life. 

Anyway, I first want to thank my beta's (**iamanevilgenius **and** i am the muse of the evil genius**) for their patience and their awesome work. Keep it up you guys...wait, I mean gals!

Next, I want to thank the reviewers.

**otaku3kagome**: I'm really glad that you like the story, and I'm also glad you let me pick at your brain for an explanation! Thanks again for the compliments!

**Heath Wolff**: I'm honored to be the one you constantly review...I'm also very excited to hear that my story exceeds your expectations...I hope that I don't let you down!

**ShellyD1982**: I'm so happy that I got you think about what could be happening. I'm also glad that you like what you're reading so far, and I hope that I can keep you on the edge of your seat!

Now, I will be saying this to everyone-read between the lines when it comes to the Dream that Harry had and Jack's profile and _why_ Harry is going to take over. It's going to be very sad...and in the end of this part of the trilogy, it will be very shocking!

Also note that you will see some darker parts of Harry later on in the story...hopefully you all won't freak out too much.

Oh, and I would like more reviews, even if it's just one word...if it's not too much trouble. I like to know what the audience is thinking!

Love you all!

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Musical Theme: Lacrimosa- Mozart's Requiem

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And now, I present, Chapter Three!

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Harry didn't sleep for the rest of the night after that. He stayed up all night on the couch thinking about the dream, trying to figure out what it meant.

'Is he alive?' He thought. 'How? How could he have lived? He died right in my arms…did the Ascended Ones trick me? Or was this just some random dream?'

Unfortunately, Harry didn't really have time to think about that. He did after all, have a purpose for being in St. Petersburg. And he was going to have to fulfill his purpose to prove to not only himself, but also the rest of the Intelligence Community, that Harry Potter (otherwise known as Garret Bristow) was alive and well, and that he can still kick some ass.

So the next day, after getting a record five hours of sleep, Harry, Lydia and Michael did their best to calm their nerves before the op, knowing that the situation was going to be extremely dangerous and risky. Michael, being the all-American boy that he was, decided to go out jogging and jump rope. Lydia joined him in the jog then had a relaxing bath.

Harry meanwhile moved the furniture in the living room around so that the living room was open. He then found a mat from the bathroom and laid it on the ground. In front of it he put down a jar filled with long burning incense sticks and lit them. He knelt on the mat, sitting on his ankles, placed his hands onto his knees and closed his eyes.

Meditation for Harry had always been difficult. It wasn't that he couldn't calm his mind, or that he would fall asleep, it was the simple fact that it would always give him the feeling that he just shouldn't do it. Mostly because of instances when he would have some memories resurface of when he was young and living with the Dursleys, or sometimes when he would remember his mother singing him to sleep. He could also remember the night of their deaths, which hardly fazed him anymore.

But today was different. Today, he just couldn't concentrate. It was all because of that dream. He still couldn't get the image of Draco out of his mind, wondering if it was real or not. And what was worse was the fact that he couldn't figure out who that damn woman was. He knew that he knew her, and that she was probably someone closer to him than he thought.

But, his concentration on the subject was broken, due to the fact that Lydia had decided to smack him upside the head and yell at him to get ready. Harry went into Michael's room and changed into his simple black tuxedo. The bow tie he could handle, but he hated the vest because it itched like mad. He also decided to wear a double holster, which would be hidden on his lower back, underneath the jacket. Lydia gave him a pair of Glock 18's to go with it, along with a trench coat and his ticket to get into the theater. He was also given a biosynthetic earpiece that would allow him to communicate with his teammates. Finally, he hid his wand up the sleeve of his shirt, knowing that he might need it as a last resort.

Getting to the theater square wasn't a problem (thanks to the inconspicuous van that was provided to them), and neither was allowing Harry to walk a block to the main entrance. The theater itself was shaped like a lower case t, except that part of it was cut off. The theater itself was located in the southern wing, and the main entrance hall was one big dome. To get to his seat, Harry had to climb up to the third floor and go to the left of the Tsar's Box, all the way down to where it said Box 15 (in both English and Russian). The box was still empty when Harry got there, so he sat down in seat number three, praying that he would be able to make contact.

"I've made it to the box." Harry said quietly. "The target hasn't arrived yet."

"Copy that." Michael said. "I haven't seen anyone suspicious arrive yet either."

"Good." Said Lydia. "Hope you two are enjoying yourselves being warm. I'm freezing my ass off out here!"

Harry chuckled at this. He knew that they might be awhile, so he took a moment to take a look at the night's program. That night, they were supposed to be playing pieces of Mozart, from the sonatas to the Requiem. Harry slightly smiled at this, mostly because Draco loved Mozart.

After looking over the program for the fifth time, a man finally arrived and took seat number four. Harry looked over and saw that the man looked just like the guy he was looking for. Six foot, one hundred and eighty pounds. Wavy dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Thin and pointy face.

"Initiating contact." Harry said quietly. "Hi. You come here often?"

The man looked him over. Harry could tell that he was trying to see if Harry was the agent that was going to pull him out. Finally, the man stuck his hand out, ready to shake Harry's. Harry responded by grasping it.

"Yes I do. I enjoy the classics." The man said.

"I had a friend who did as well." Harry explained. "He loved Mozart very much."

"Your friend had good taste." The man said.

"That he did." Harry said, slightly solemn.

"My name is Kevin Harris. American." He said, shaking his hand once more.

"Garret Bristow. Americanized brit." Harry replied.

Kevin's eyes widened a little at this new piece of information. He started to relax around Harry, and Harry could tell that he was feeling safe with him.

All of a sudden, the lights dimmed, and the show began. They began with the piano sonatas, including Harry's favorite, the Moonlight Sonata. The slow and precious melody soothed him, letting him become even calmer than he was before. Soon they moved a choir on to the stage, and an orchestra. They all began to play the Requiem, sounding more beautiful than Harry could ever imagine. Kevin interrupted his appreciation however, choosing this moment to talk about the piece.

"This is my favorite piece from Mozart." Kevin said quietly.

"This was my friend's as well." Harry replied just as quiet.

"What I love most though is the Lacrimosa at the end." Kevin explained. "There is no other prayer like it."

"True." Harry replied.

"You know Latin?" Kevin asked, surprised.

"No." Harry said. "I just know the translation."

"Your friend?" Kevin wondered.

"Yeah." Harry said. "Tearful that day, on which will rise from ashes guilty man for judgment. So have mercy, O God, on this person. Compassionate Lord Jesus, grant them rest. Amen."

"Your friend is smart." Kevin pointed out.

Harry's heart panged in pain. He didn't know that it was going to be this hard to talk about him again. But he swallowed and allowed the pain to pass, along with a single tear.

"That he was."

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Harry and Kevin chose to leave during intermission, knowing that they could probably avoid traffic-and an open gunfight- in the streets. Harry was leading him toward the van, which was south of the theater, hoping that their plan would go off without a hitch. According to the plan, Harry and Kevin would get to the van and drive to the back of the theater to pick up Lydia and Michael, where they would then drive back to the safe house. Harry liked the plan because it was simple and to the point.

When Harry and Kevin were about five hundred meters from the van, a clicking sound was heard faintly from their left, down an alley. Kevin didn't seem to hear it. Harry did however, and he recognized the sound of someone cocking a gun. Harry stopped to look down the alley, but didn't see anyone. Kevin stopped to look at him. Harry grabbed him and made him turn around.

"What's wrong?" Kevin asked.

"Shut up and keep moving." Harry told him. "'Dite, we've been compromised."

Harry could here Lydia moving around in the background. He couldn't really tell what she was doing though.

"Are you sure?" Lydia asked, trying to be certain that Harry was telling the truth.

"Yes, I know a gun cocking when I hear it." Harry replied, slightly patronized.

"Shit. Okay, what do you want to do?" Lydia asked, letting Harry know that she was packing up.

Harry couldn't think as fast as he wanted. What could possibly be the best place to meet, where there wouldn't be too many people with guns looking to kill him and his informant? And then he had an idea. It was a stupid idea, but it could work. Scratch that, it would have to work.

"Meet us in front of the Usupovsky Palace in one hour. If we aren't there, get back to the safe house."

"No problem. I'll make sure to grab Rookie and get down there." Lydia replied.

"See you then." Harry said, hoping that he wouldn't regret this.

"What's going on?" Kevin asked, concerned.

"Change in plans." Harry said.

"I thought you said-" Kevin tried to say.

"Shut up, you'll be fine. Now keep moving!" Harry barked.

Harry and Kevin walked down the street inconspicuously, trying to make sure that they weren't being followed again. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Harry could hear another person following them, and they were catching up. Deciding to expose them, Harry urged Kevin to run by hitting him. Their stalker decided it would be fun to shoot at them.

Harry's plan was simple. He and Kevin would run up the road for about three quarters of a mile (which is about twelve hundred meters) to The Bridge of Lieutenant Schmidt, and back track, to confuse their stalkers. Harry was still working on the finer points, but it seemed that it could work. Especially since it wouldn't expose Harry as a wizard in front of Kevin, and it would allow him to have some fun in the process.

Or so it seemed.

It turns out that running about three quarters of a mile and running for your life isn't a very good combination at all. In fact, combining that with what was one guy with one gun into about six with six guns makes for a terrible combination, especially since these people were firing in the middle of a public street. Harry wondered why in the hell he'd thought of this plan.

Then he remembered that it was a stupid idea and that it was his only option.

It took them about fifteen minutes to reach the bridge, due to cars, guns, civilians and another bridge that they had to cross, literally. Once they reached the end of the bridge, it seemed that their pursuers had given up, but Harry knew that they wouldn't for long. He also knew that his plan would work if he timed it just right.

Harry and Kevin ran about thirty feet up the bridge when Harry told Kevin to stop. Harry ripped off his trench coat and threw it off the bridge, then reached toward his back and pulled out his pistols.

"Jump off." Harry told Kevin.

Kevin looked at him wildly.

"Are you insane! That water is freezing!" Kevin stated.

"Trust me." Harry said, trying to be assuring. "Jump off and swim to the dock. I'll meet you there in a little bit."

Kevin looked past Harry and saw that their pursuers were back, and that they didn't look too happy. He looked back at Harry, who was staring at them, bloodlust in his eyes, cocking his pistols. Kevin didn't need any more argument than that, and jumped off, praying that his comrade would be all right.

Harry however knew that he was going to be fine, at least physically. Spiritually and emotionally, he wasn't so sure. But he would know now, or never.

'God forgive me for what I must do.' Harry thought as he pointed his pistols at the targets before him.

They all looked at him like he was insane. Harry didn't care. He just switched his pistols from "Semi" to "Auto", and prepared to fire.

No one knew who fired the first shot that night. The news reported that it was most likely gang violence, blaming the Mob and some rival street gangs for the violence. It was however known as the bloodiest day in history, and was also known as the day that the streets and the river ran red with blood.

And Harry, being the interesting person that he is, was the only survivor of that incident.

Harry joined Kevin ten minutes later on the dock nearby. About half an hour, they joined up with Lydia and Michael in front of the palace, wet and freezing. They raced to the safe house and felt that they had completed their mission well.

Harry however, felt that he had failed in some way. He knew that he shouldn't have had to kill those people. He knew that he shouldn't have in the first place.

He also knew that he shouldn't have enjoyed it.

And that is what prevented him from sleeping that night.

The next morning, Harry was wide awake when the phone in the room rang.

"Hello?" Harry answered.

"Harry, it's Jack." The caller replied.

"Jack?" Harry said, curious. "What are you calling for?"

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, confused.

Harry sighed, knowing that Jack was either an idiot (which he doubted) or was just playing around.

"I mean that you've never called an agent while they're in the field before. It's kind of strange." Harry explained.

Jack laughed, confirming Harry's suspicions.

"Yes well, the circumstances are unusual." Jack explained.

"How so?" Harry asked.

"Well…there isn't time to explain everything now, so I'll just have to tell you when you get here." Jack said.

"Oh, okay." Harry said. "Wait, where are you?"

"London."


	6. Chapter 4: Familiarity

A/N: OMG, I almost forgot to add this!!

Anyway, I know that I've been gone for awhile, but it's no excuse...but I am letting you know that I am posting major revisions on the other chapters ahead...mostly cause I want to keep you all guessing!!

Now, to the reviewers-

**Heath Wolff**: I'm glad that you liked the spy part...and I'm glad you liked the "Hallucinations", as you've dubbed them...but remember to keep your mind open...cause you never know what will happen in this story!!

**otaku3kagome**: You know...I'm starting to like you...you're straight to the point!! I'm glad you liked it.

**ShellyD1982**: I'm glad you liked that chapters, and the interview as well. I hope you paid attention and looked for the subtle clues. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!!

And now that I'm back, I guess there's only one thing to do.

Read and review!!!

* * *

After Harry learned that he was going to London, he became excited and anxious at the same time, knowing that many people (including his friends) would wonder what in the world he was doing, and where he was going when he wasn't there. He knew that the press and the Ministry of Magic would most likely hound him, but at this point, curiosity got the best of him. He wondered why on earth Jack would send him back to a place that could seriously compromise him, but then he resolved himself knowing that there must be a very good reason to do so.

And so, after the four of them showered and packed, they all headed out to a private airstrip where their plane was waiting. Once aboard, Harry noticed a small paper bag with his name on it in one of the seats. Peering inside, he saw a note on top of what looked like a set of clothes. He opened the note to find that he was supposed to change into these clothes, and that more would be explained later. Figuring that it would be easier to change after takeoff, he set the bag down and sat down next to it.

Half an hour later, Harry emerged from the plane's bathroom dressed in a plain black jacket and pants, plain white button up shirt, black dress shoes, a plain black tie and a tan trench coat to complete the ensemble. He placed his clothing (jeans, tee-shirt, hooded sweatshirt and tennis shoes) in the paper bag and stored it in the luggage compartment over the seats, knowing full well that someone would take his clothing and place it in storage for him. He then went over and sat down next to Lydia, who was reading her book (Little Women). Michael was staring out the window next to him, and Kevin was sitting next to him, playing solitaire on Lydia's laptop. When he sat down, Lydia looked up at him, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What's with this suit?" She asked.

"No idea." Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Probably has something to do with whatever's in London."

"Speaking of which," Lydia started, closing her book. "Why do you get to go?"

"Hell if I know." Harry replied.

She rolled her eyes at him and went back to reading her book. Harry smirked at her then turned toward Kevin.

"So Kevin," Harry started. "Who were the people that were chasing us?"

All three of Harry's companions looked up at him in shock. Harry however, remained absolutely calm.

"Sir, what're you-"

"I don't think I can-"

"Harry, I don't think-"

"Quiet. All of you." Harry said coldly. "I asked you a question, Mr. Harris. I would like you to answer it."

Kevin was breathing erratically now. He knew that if he told Harry anything before he was debriefed, not only would he be in trouble, but also everyone else on the plane would be. They would all be reprimanded and most likely suspended indefinitely. He looked over towards Lydia, looking for some kind of sign as to what he should do. She looked over towards Harry for a few seconds, then looked back at him and nodded her head in agreement with Harry.

He closed his eyes and sighed, preparing himself.

"They are known as The Syndicate." Kevin explained, opening his eyes. "They are an all around group. You know, drugs, racketeering, fraud, murder…you name it, they have it. In both my world, and yours."

Harry and Lydia looked at each other, looking for some sign that the other knew about this. When they found none, they looked back at Kevin.

"Go on." Harry told him quietly.

"You know those nut jobs that are always talking about a "shadow government?"" he asked them rhetorically. "These are the guys that they're talking about. They have people everywhere. You can't run, or hide from them. And what's worse about the whole thing, is the fact that every organization, every terrorist, every psychopath that you guys have encountered…they are working for them. They are all manipulated by them."

This sudden revelation was beginning to make Harry's head spin. Everyone that he had encountered, everyone that he had ever fought-Carly Peyton, The Death Eaters, Alexander Foley, Voldemort-they were all pawns in a game. The façade that they were making their own decisions, their own choices as to what they were going to do, who they were going to kill…it meant nothing.

But the question remained in the forefront of Harry's mind-Why? Why would someone go to all the trouble of uniting every criminal element in the world? What were they hoping to achieve?

And then the answer hit him. The oh-so-simple answer.

Fear. They had power, and were willing to use it to bring fear to the people they manipulated.

And that scared him.

"How come we've never heard of them before?" Harry asked, trying to draw his mind away from his thoughts.

"That's the thing. No one has until recently." Kevin replied.

"How long have they been around?" Lydia asked.

"Twelve years. Give or take a few months. No one knows where they originate from either, save maybe one person."

"Who?" Lydia asked him, becoming anxious.

"I don't know her name." Kevin explained. "All I know is that she's some defected KGB agent…"

Lydia's eyes became wide with shock over this revelation. She turned her face towards Harry, and saw that his fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were whiter than a ghost. His face however, was twisted into a mixture of pain and anger. She knew who he was thinking of, because she was thinking the same thing.

"Carly." Harry said vindictively.

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Four hours later, their plane arrived at London Heathrow Airport. Once it pulled up onto a tarmac near the hangers, the door opened, letting Harry get out of the plane. Once he was out, he saw a single town car out on the tarmac, realizing that it was waiting for him. He walked over and got into the back seat, and realized that Jack was in the backseat with him, holding a briefcase in his lap.

"Hello Harry." Jack said politely, with no smile on his face.

Harry looked at him with a hurt look on his face.

"Why didn't you tell us who we'd be dealing with?" Harry asked bluntly.

Jack's eyebrow went up in amusement.

"Always straight to the point, aren't you?" Jack said. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to start doubting yourself."

"What?" Harry asked, his face twisting into confusion.

"Harry, if I told you right away that you'd be dealing with The Syndicate, would you have come back?" Jack asked.

Harry turned away and thought about what he was going to say. He was sure that he would have come back…wouldn't he? He kept searching for the answer, trying to prove not only to Jack, but also to himself, that he would have come back. But he couldn't find any. He turned back to face Jack, a look of defeat plastered onto his face.

"That's what I thought." Jack said, opening the briefcase.

Inside the briefcase was a somewhat thick file folder, a wallet and what Harry could have sworn was a holstered Glock Seventeen semi automatic pistol. Jack handed Harry the file folder.

"There's been a string of homicides in and around the UK, Ireland and Scotland." Jack started to explain.

"Jack." Harry interrupted. "We don't investigate homicides. What makes this so different?"

Jack sighed.

"A fingerprint." Jack answered. "It matched one of the fingerprints that we found at 342."

Harry looked at him intently, looking for some hint that this could have been a joke. He found none.

"As I was trying to say," Jack continued. "You are going to investigate the homicides. You are going to find the suspect, and bring him in. But, remember this is not going to allow you to neglect your duties over at Ops. So don't think of this as a vacation."

Harry rolled his eyes jokingly, to which Jack smiled at him.

"Fine." Harry said, smiling. "How am I getting in?"

Jack then pulled out the wallet and the gun. He then opened the wallet, which showed a fake of I.D. of Harry impersonating-

"You're FBI." Jack said smiling.

"Jack!" Harry said, shocked at the audacity of his friend. "Last time I posed as an FBI agent, I got a javelin pole in my leg! By a _real_ agent!"

"Don't worry." Jack reassured. "You're cleared this time, so no one will be impaling you again. And besides, you'll be working with the new homicide unit based out of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and the Auror Offices."

"What?" said Harry, confused.

"It's a new unit," Jack explained. "more or less designed to investigate homicides based in the Wizarding world."

Harry's look changed to one of "you have got to be kidding me," though he knew that Jack wouldn't lie to him. He then placed the badge in his inside jacket pocket, and placed the holster on his side. Continuing to face Jack, he put on a look of seriousness.

"Do they know that I'm coming?" He asked.

"Yes." Jack relied. "In fact, they requested you by name."

Harry snorted lightly and looked out the window, not surprised that he was requested to do this. Ever since he had resurfaced in the Wizarding World, rumors of what he had been doing for the past ten years began to surface. Some said that he had gone to another realm of peace. Others said he was kidnapped. And even more said that he had been abducted by aliens…which confused him greatly. Still, the more credible people thought that he had been on assignment for the Ministry, whilst others thought he was doing something for the Order.

He then began to wonder if he should visit anyone while he was here…maybe Hermione and Ron…or even Remus. But he didn't even know how long he was going to be there…and he didn't know what kind of danger he would be placing them in.

"Oh, and by the way," Jack started to say. "You can go visit your friends if you want. I took the liberty of placing a twenty four hour guard detail on them…just to be safe."

Harry turned to him and smiled, thanking him silently for doing so.

He then noticed that the car was slowing down, and that he was in a neighborhood similar to Privet Dr. He shuddered at this, remembering his silent vow to never return to that place ever again. The only differences as far as he could tell were that there were at least sixteen pink flamingoes on each lawn…and they were blinking. All of the houses were white, the paneling very…well, plain. They were all two floors, and none of them had garages. He supposed that everyone either Flooed or Apparated everywhere. The lawns were a crispy green, looking very fresh and green, even near the beginning of spring.

There was a large crowd gathered in front of the houses, whose address was number four, Private Dr., sending another shudder through his body. From what he could tell, it seemed to be reporters, neighbors and Ministry officials. When the car pulled up to the house, many people gathered to look at the car, wondering who could possibly be in it.

"Good luck." Jack said.

Harry took a deep breath, and got out of the car. There was an immediate effect, the reporters and cameramen taking pictures and asking questions. The other people began to touch him like he was some kind of holy object, hoping that if he touched them that there troubles would go away. There were a few who got out of the way, and the Ministry officials cleared the rest away.

Once he got through, he saw that the barricade was a bit smaller than it should have been. He grabbed one of the Aurors and pulled him aside.

"Who's in charge here?" Harry asked.

The Auror pointed over towards the door, where a familiar sight awaited him. He smiled; thanking God that there was someone familiar that he would be working with. The person smiled back kindly, running up to him and embracing him.

"It's good to see you Harry."

"Good to see you too, Ginny."


	7. Chapter 5: Bloody Scars

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. own Harry Potter. I only own the characters that I have created along with the plot that I have created.

* * *

Hi again!!! I'm back!!

First things first, I forgot to put a disclaimer in my last chapter posting. Anyone who is offended or mad or whatever...I'm only human!!!

Second, thank you all for the many hits, but I would love to have some more reviews, if that's good and all for you all!!

Third, I am now looking for a new beta or betas, as I have decided to let go of my previous ones, even though they have done fabulous work with me.

Finally, I present, Chapter Six!!

* * *

Harry released her and took a long look at her, trying to figure out where her childhood looks went. Her normally hard and blazing blue eyes had gone soft. Her cheekbones were accentuated by her lack of freckles, her long red hair now shortened to her shoulders. She was more womanish than when he last saw her all those years ago, but she looked more professional in her plain black robes than he ever would.

He took a step back, letting her look him over. It was at this moment that he noticed that he noticed one of the investigators, armed with a camera, entering the house without something to cover his shoes. Ginny, noticing this quickly intervened by covering his mouth with her hand.

"It's okay, Harry." Ginny said assuringly. "They're using the impervius charm on their shoes. It prevents them from making footprints on the scene."

Harry glared quietly at her, then relaxed. He then brought his own wand out and cast the impervius charm upon his own feet before quietly entering the house, noticing that the door had been completely busted open using some kind of tool, most likely a crowbar. The inside of the house was white as well, boxes covering the place. It was obvious that they the occupants were either moving in or out of the house, but Harry couldn't see why they would move out. Upon entering the house, the stairs were directly in front of him, with no actual rail but a section of wall that acted as one. The living room was to his right and what looked like a formal dining room was to his left. Both rooms had boxes in them, some of them were unpacked, while others were knocked over. There were no bloody footprints, and no other signs of blood anywhere, which surprised Harry.

"Where are the bodies?" Harry asked quietly.

Ginny gave him a "follow me" gesture, and led him towards the back of the house, through the dining area. They ended up in the kitchen, which was just as white as the rest of the house. There was a sheet on the floor covering up what looked like two bodies. No fluid of any sort seeped through the sheet, which Harry found odd. He bent down and reached out to lift the sheet off when Ginny grabbed his wrist.

"Be careful." She warned.

Harry stared at her, confused.

"You know one of the victims."

Harry's stare of confusion became one of shock.

"Cho Livingston. You know her as Cho Chang."

Harry swallowed hard and bowed his head. He remembered his distaste for Cho, but he never wanted her to die…or get hurt.

"Have the bodies been blessed?" He asked quietly.

Ginny nodded her head. He moved his hand and lifted the sheet. Cho's body was naked and covered in red marks, but no bruises. He could see that she had defensive wounds, obviously fighting off the attacker or attackers. He could also see that her eyes were red, but there were no signs of blood in the capillaries there. He found rope marks on her hands, ankles and her neck. He could also see trauma to her genitalia, which confirmed his first thoughts of rape.

"Is this how the other victims were found?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Ginny replied. "We think that the Avada Kedavra was used, but we can't find any traces of it anywhere."

It was then that Harry found what he was looking for.

"It's because they weren't killed by the killing curse." Harry replied.

Whilst his friend stood there next to him, shocked at his allegations, he pulled out a pair of non-latex gloves and put them on. He then he pulled out his wand and muttered "Lumos", igniting the tip with a small point of light. He then opened Cho's mouth and point the wand down her throat, peering inside. When he found what he was looking for, he closed her mouth muttered "Nox", extinguishing the wand light.

"They were poisoned." Harry concluded, shocking Ginny yet again. "Definitely something that caused respiratory failure."

He then stood up and faced her, grabbing her hand and placing it on his throat.

"There are three ways of causing respiratory failure." Harry explained. "One of them is crushing the larynx, which is caused by choking. But, as we can see," he said, pointing to Cho's neck, "there are no ligature marks on the neck, so we can rule that out."

He then pulled out his wand and ignited the tip. He then handed her his wand.

"Look down her throat and tell me what you see." He told her.

Ginny nodded in his direction and did what she was told. After peering for a few minutes she gave up.

"I don't see anything." She told him, standing up and handing his wand back to him.

He nodded, extinguished his and put it back into his jacket.

"Good."

Ginny gave him a look of confusion.

"Another way of choking is by having an obstruction in the larynx." He explained further. "It could be anything. Food, clothing, even paper. But, there's nothing there, which means that an outside factor caused it."

"Poison." She stated, agreeing with him.

"Exactly." He said. "We just need a blood sample to test."

"Okay then. Follow me."

He was confused as to why he would need to follow her, but followed obediently and blindly into what Harry figured was the sunroom. It looked completely normal…or as normal as the wizarding world could be. There was no furniture of any kind, nor any knick-knacks, pictures, or even any wallpaper. She led him through a door that was seated on the far end of the room, and outside into the backyard. The yard itself was fenced in with a boarded fence that was painted white. It was completely bare with only a shed in the far right corner housing a tool shed. When he exited the house, he saw that Ginny had gone immediately to his right. He turned and let out a small gasp.

The wall of the house had been painted red with blood.

"What the hell?" Harry whispered.

"It happens every time we come to a crime scene." Ginny explained. "We come within one point five meters of the bodies and all of a sudden, the blood will just come out of nowhere and plant itself onto the wall. What's weird is that it goes outside onto the southern wall. We don't know what it means. And it won't come off."

She then pulled out a vial and scraped it along the edge of the panel, the blood pouring freely inside, rather than caked and flakey, it was still liquid. While she corked the vial, Harry went up to it and touched it with his gloved hand, seeing that the blood was still wet.

"How long have you been here?" Harry asked.

"Six hours." Ginny replied.

Harry looked at her, shocked. The blood should have been dry by now. Suddenly, the tiny amount of blood shot right back to the wall. Ginny then handed the vial to him, not knowing what he was going to do with it. He looked around and saw that one of the Aurors was about to leave. He motioned for the Auror to come to him and handed him the vial. He then pulled a notepad and pen out of his coat pocket and began writing something down.

"Get this immediately couriered to this address," he said. "and tell them to get a full tox-screen on it. Tell them I sent it."

The Auror nodded and left as soon as Harry gave him the address and the instructions. He then turned to Ginny.

"Get people to the other crime scenes and get samples of the blood. Have them sent to the same address with my name on it." He instructed.

"Okay."

"Alright, have everything that you have sent over to Ron and Hermione's." He instructed further. "I'll pick everything up from there."

Ginny nodded her head and walked over to the fireplace inside the house. Harry decided to Apparate to Ron and Hermione's, rather than wait for a car. Once he got over the constricting feeling again, he walked up to the familiar off white house, seeing that only one car was in the two-car garage. He walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell, trying not to reminisce the memories of Draco and himself walking up the same path and seeing his friends yet again after ten years of self-exile. The door opened quietly, revealing a very strange looking Hermione. She had finally cut her curly hair to shoulder length and straightened it, finally letting Harry realize how many layers she actually had in her hair. She was also wearing a light blue sweat suit, with no socks, which revealed that she had swollen ankles. There was a slightly big bulge coming out of her stomach, to which Harry smiled.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling him into a hug from which he could swear that she was getting inhuman strength from being pregnant. "I had no idea that you were coming! Wait, what're you-"

Harry raised a finger to her lips to calm her down.

"How about we go inside," Harry told her. "and then I'll tell you what's going on."

She took a moment to think, then decided that he was right by nodding her head and walking back inside towards the living room. Harry followed and closed the door behind him, took off his coat and placed it into the closet that was on his immediate left. He then walked over into the living room and joined her by sitting in the chair whilst she sat on the couch.

"I'm here on a case that I'm investigating." Harry told her.

"You mean the murders that have been happening all over?" She asked.

"Yeah." Harry replied.

"But what would an Intelligence network gain from investi-" Hermione tried to ask.

"One of the perpetrators left a fingerprint at a crime scene." Harry explained. "It matched one that belonged to someone working for…a dangerous organization."

She nodded her head in understanding.

"Well then, you're staying here while you're in England." she asked.

"Hermione, I can get-"

"No. I've said it. It's final." Hermione said.

Harry nodded his head quietly, knowing now that he shouldn't try and defy the pregnant and cunning witch in front of him. Quite suddenly however, a thought came to him. The house was way too quiet.

"Where are-" Harry tried to ask.

"Ron and Angela are on a play-date." Hermione explained with a laugh. "Ron is somehow becoming more maternal then I am."

With a grin on both their faces, they sat in silence, relishing this small moment of peace.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Harry helped Hermione clean the house, do laundry, put together a grocery list and cook dinner. When Ron and Angela came home to find not only Harry, but also a very (extravagant by Ron's standards) dinner of hot dogs with macaroni and cheese (a nice puree chicken for Angela), they both squealed in delight. After filling up on dinner, Ron and Hermione cleaned up Angela while Harry cleaned the kitchen and the dishes. After finishing his task, Harry went digging inside his coat, pulling out his cigarettes and a new silver Zippo lighter. He lit his cigarette with patience, taking a moment to fill up on the sweet nicotine filling his body. He place the cigarette between his fingers, trying to take a moment to think about what he was going to do next with his investigation when he heard the back door open. He turned around and saw Ron walking towards him, a concerned look on his face. 

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"No." Harry replied. "I'm not."

Ron stood to his left, looking forward at what Harry was looking at earlier. Harry faced the same direction, taking a long drag from the cigarette.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked.

Harry took a moment. He didn't know whether or not to tell Ron about his problems, even though he trusted him. In the end, friendship won.

"Weird stuff has been going on lately." Harry told him.

"Like what?"

Harry took another drag and sighed.

"My eyes have corrected themselves." Harry told him, seeing that Ron was shocked at this new fact. "My hair won't grow back or change back to its original color. I'm feeling weird, but I can't describe it. And…"

Harry stopped. He was afraid of what Ron would do if he told him of the seemingly worst and most frightening thing that was happening to him. Ron would surely be afraid and tell Hermione. But even if he didn't they would all realize the same thing-something was coming. And it was coming for him.

"And what?" Rona asked, concerned.

"My scar is gone."


	8. Chapter 6: Dreams and Lovers

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

A/N: Hi everyone, I thought I'd post this real quick, since I owe all of you some chapters. And thank you to **otaku3kagome** for reviewing...**the only one who did!!!**

**People, I really need feedback, so please, for the love of God, review already!!!! I need to know what you people think, so that I can try to incorporate more of your input into the story itself!!! Thank you!!**

Oh, and just so you know, the last chapter was actually Chapter 5...I typed the wrong number by mistake...I'm sorry!!!!**  
**

**And now, I present, Chapter 6!**

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Ron was shocked initially when Harry told him that bit of news, but became more concerned over time that night. Like Harry, he had not even noticed that the lightning bolt mark was gone from his forehead, until that day. But, unlike Harry, Ron had decided to tell Hermione, who then decided that she was going to research everything she could on curse marks, just to see if she could figure out why Harry's scar would fade all of a sudden. 

Harry remained very apprehensive on the subject, still wondering what was happening to him. Was he going through some kind of change because of his destiny? Or was this some kind of freakish thing that happened to wizards and witches once in a while? But what was even more important was not just the why, but who was behind it. Was it the Ascended Ones? Was it just Dumbledore? The Syndicate?

Or, was it even himself causing all this?

He chose to end this banter to himself however, choosing instead to get some much needed sleep and more importantly, he began to dream. It was quite different from his usual dreams however, and he began to wonder if this was actually an ordinary dream. But after a few moments passed, he realized that it wasn't, due to him being himself.

He found himself standing inside of a giant stone structure. Based on the architecture and design, he concluded that he was standing inside a church. There were dozens of wooden pews in front of him, all of them surrounded by giant stone pillars, leading to the alter of the church. What was strange however, was that the stained glass had turned black, so there was no light coming from the outside of the church, yet Harry could see just fine, even though the lighting was dim. On the alter, he saw a coffin, the top half of it wide open.

Something was compelling him to go to it, so e began to walk forward slowly, taking in the breathtaking architecture of the church itself. With the awe and wonder however, each step towards the coffin brought on a sense of dread and fear, compelling him to run fast and hard away from this place, but he treaded onward still, finally reaching his destination moments later. He peered inside to see that it was completely empty. Shaking his head in frustration, he turned his head up towards the alter to see that there was a figure standing underneath the window. Upon closer inspection, he froze.

He'd know that blonde hair anywhere.

He ran up to the figure, confirming his suspicion. He stood before Draco, who was staring into the darkness that covered the stained glass. Harry smiled, ready to embrace his former lover.

"Harry?" Draco cried out. "Where are you?"

Harry backed up, started by this new revelation. Why couldn't Draco see him? What kind of dream was this? Or was this a nightmare?

"I'm right here." Harry yelled.

"Harry?!" Draco cried again. "Please! Come back!"

"Draco!" Harry cried out desperately.

He rushed forward to try and embrace him, but went right through him, as if Harry were a ghost. Draco fell to his knees and began to weep.

"Please." Draco begged through the sobs. "I need you."

"I need you too." Harry whispered.

Harry stood there and watched Draco sob. He couldn't think of any reason why Draco wouldn't be able to see or hear him. He couldn't event think of why Draco would need him at all at this point, considering that he was dead. He bent down and placed his hand on Draco's shoulder, not caring that Draco wouldn't feel it, because all that mattered to him was the thought of it. All that mattered was that Draco needed him. And he would do whatever was necessary to make sure that Draco got what he needed.

"He will never hear _you_." said a familiar voice from behind him.

He stood and turned around quickly, ready to attack the person just for saying such a thing, but quickly pulled back in shock and awe when he saw who it was. Quite suddenly, he found himself gasping for air and drenched in a cold sweat in the guest bedroom of Ron and Hermione's home. He allowed himself to adjust his eyes and see that none of the plain, light brown night stand and dresser hadn't been moved at all, and the fireplace was still extinguished. He swung his legs off of the bed and let his feet rest on the floor, placing his head into his hands.

He still couldn't believe that _he_ had told _himself_ that Draco would never hear him.

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About five hours later, Harry woke up yet again, this time running quietly downstairs very quickly to find that there were two packages waiting for him-one from Ginny at the office and another package from Jack. He quietly ran back upstairs with both packages and set them down upon his bed. After taking a moment to decide what package to open first, he decided to open Jack's first and Ginny's later. The package contained at least fifteen sets of clothing, seven of which were suits, his black overcoat, his watch, his sunglasses, a laptop and a pair of Glock Eighteens, complete with a dual rear holster. He then pulled out a set of clothes and sealed up the box so that no one (especially Angela) would get inside.

Ten minutes later, Harry was dressed in a plain black tee shirt, jeans, tennis shoes and his overcoat. He then pulled out a piece of parchment from the nightstand and found his pen from his trench coat, leaving a small and brief message for Ron and Hermione, telling them that he would be back shortly. He then put on his watch, put his cell phone in his coat pocket and put on his sunglasses. He quietly snuck out of the house before Apparating to the district of Fulham in London, making himself appear inside a bathroom located at a park near his destination. He then walked out of the bathroom and onto the street, being careful to make sure that no one recognized him or even noticed him. After walking approximately four hundred feet down Stephendale Road, he came to his final destination- a church known as Our Lady of Perpetual Help.

He quietly walked inside and noticed that the church seemed much more open than most that he had been to. This church was white all around, but still contained the Romanesque arches throughout, giving it a bigger look to it. There were no stain glass windows, rather just plain windows that gave off lots of light. The alter was simple and very humbling. Harry walked up to the middle pew section and sat on the dark oak pew, making the sign of the cross and saying a few prayers from the rosary.

He then just sat there, staring at the cross, waiting for a sign from God. Or in this case, a sign from Draco.

"Can I help you, my son?" a man asked from his right.

Harry turned to see a familiar face looking back at him, concerned. He thought before he answered, knowing that this next moment would be very fun for him. But all the same he remained very serious, due to the respect that he had for priests.

"I'm not sure you can Father." he answered. "But it would be nice to have an old friend lend an ear."

The sandy haired priest looked at him with confusion while Harry stood up and walked toward him. When Harry reached him, he took off his sunglasses and extended his hand.

"It's good to see you, Seamus." Harry said.

The good priest's eyes lit up with excitement, bringing about the biggest grin that Harry had seen in a long time. Seamus clasped Harry's hand with his own and pulled Harry into a hug, causing them both to laugh. When Seamus pulled away, he looked Harry over, taking in Harry's new look.

"Well," Seamus said. "look at you! You look great, Harry!"

Harry nodded in reply, forming a smirk on his lips. He knew what Seamus was thinking about, and he knew that Seamus would probably say a lot of Hail Mary's before he slept tonight. Harry still remembered the awkward night back in fifth year where Seamus had confessed that he was bisexual to all of his dorm mates. It was a rather awkward moment for him and Seamus, because Seamus was rather attracted to Harry, and he himself was still coming to terms with his own bisexuality, because he found himself attracted to Seamus as well. The two had shared a few encounters that involved hands and mouths, but nothing too far gone. But, Seamus was there for him (via owl) when Harry had come to terms, and remained a good friend before he left.

"Is there someplace where we can talk privately?" Harry asked.

"Oh!" Seamus said. "The confessional is-"

"I'm not talking about confession, Seamus." Harry said quickly. "I mean talk."

Seamus nodded his head in understanding. He then led Harry to a closet and pulled out his own trench coat, pulled it on and walked out the door, holding it open for Harry. They exited the church quietly and walked back to the park where Harry had previously came from. Once there, they began to walk around slowly, observing the children playing European Football.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Seamus asked.

Harry sighed and looked at Seamus, whose eyes were full of concern.

"If I tell you things, you can't say anything at all." Harry instructed. "Do you understand?"

Seamus simply nodded in reply. Harry sighed again and looked away.

"Weird things have been happening to me lately." Harry told him. "My hair won't change back. My eyes have corrected themselves. My scar is gone. And I…I've been having weird dreams."

"What kind of dreams?" Seamus asked.

Harry took a deep breath before answering, trying to recall them perfectly from his memories.

"They're very strange." Harry told him. "They…the first one showed me that Draco was alive and that someone was doing some kind of experiment on him. And the second one was…it was like Draco was calling for me and he couldn't hear me. The second one was more weird though…cause I told myself that Draco wasn't able to hear me."

"What do you mean?" Seamus asked him, trying to get Harry to elaborate.

"I mean…" Harry continued, hesitating. "When I tried to get Draco's attention at some point, someone told me that he wouldn't ever be able to hear me. So I got up and turned around to ask why when I saw that it was me standing there. But it was strange. I looked like my old self…black, longer, messier hair. Scar right there for everyone to see. Except for the glasses. But I felt different somehow. Like…like there was something different about me that I couldn't quite see yet."

Seamus nodded in understanding before turning away from him. Harry looked over at him again, trying to decipher the look on Seamus' face. When Seamus' eyes met his own, he knew that Seamus was going to say something bad.

"Well Harry," he said. "I have no idea what to tell you."

Harry bowed his head and smiled in defeat.

"Wait! Let me finish!" Seamus pressed. "I want to help, I really do. It's just that the only thing that I can think of is that…well…"

"Well, what?" Harry asked.

"Maybe…maybe there is something wrong with you." Seamus told him. "But it could be a good thing."

Harry looked at him with a look that called the priest a very naughty word.

"Look, think of it this way." Seamus told him. "If there is something wrong with you and it's something that can benefit mankind, then maybe you should that it's part of you. Just like Draco is."

"Look Harry," Seamus continued. "In all the time that I've known you, you've been prone to doing extraordinary things, even as a wizard. And whatever is happening to you, I'm sure it's just as extraordinary, if not more. So, don't fight it, embrace it. Because it's part of you. But remember, just because someone tells us something about ourselves, it doesn't define us. We define ourselves."

Harry nodded, understanding what Seamus was talking about. He didn't know how he was going to accept it, much less try to understand it. He would figure it out one day, he concluded, but not today. Today, he would just try to live. Harry patted Seamus on the shoulder in thanks and started to walk away so he could Apparate in a secluded location.

"Harry!"

He whipped around to find his friend standing before him yet again, this time with a serious look on his face.

"It was no competition between me and him, was it?" Seamus asked solemnly.

Harry shook his head no, knowing exactly what his friend was talking about. Seamus nodded and Harry continued to walk away before Apparating back to Ron and Hermione's, leaving his friend and former lover behind.

And in his wake, the priest shed a tear, knowing now that he would never receive the love from Harry that he had for him.


	9. Interlude 2: No More

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

A/N: Hey everyone!!

This is the last chapter that I have typed up, so I thought I would post it as well, just to leave you guys with something to cling to while you wait for more...hopefully you'll like it.

Thanks again to **otaku3kagome** and **ShellyD1982** for reviewing...and I hope your mother gets better soon!!!

Let me know what you guys think please through reviews!!!

Thanks again.

And now, I present, Interlude #2: No More

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Carly Peyton was not a happy woman. 

She already had to put up with many things at this time-acting as a doppelganger for the very deceased Dr. Meghan Legaspi, monitor the actions and movements of Harry Potter and most importantly, answer _his_ calls whenever he beckoned her-but now, she was being called to The Facility when she wasn't needed. Although she greatly respected and feared her employer, partner and lover for his power and prestige, she could not tolerate this for much longer. At the same time however, she became disgusted with herself, knowing that she was starting to emulate him.

When she had received the call at Dr. Legaspi's office, she had been very surprised to hear directly from him, knowing that this had to very important for him to be calling her personally. She immediately left the skyscraper building known only as The Office and used her emergency portkey to travel directly to The Facility.

Once inside, she traveled down the main passageway into the newly renovated part of the building. This part had been forced to create a hallway built of reinforced steel. The hall itself was exactly five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet long, leading to one very secure set of automatic sliding doors. The doors themselves were made of steel, each half six inches thick and the rooms beyond could only be accessed via handprint scanner.

_"This won't hold them." She told him. "Nothing will. You know that."_

_He smirked at her._

_"Don't forget though." He told her. "This isn't designed to hold them in. It's to keep everyone else out."_

Once her handprint was scanned and authorized, she entered slowly. Inside was a small room with two doors on either side, the left labeled "Test Subject Area" and the other "Observation Area." She knew based on past instinct that he would be in the Observation Area and entered the room slowly.

The room itself was like a security station, with only five monitors for each room-the three living quarters, the arena and the examination room. Each monitor was twenty-four inches tall, flat screened and very clear. There was a single table in the middle for various people to make notes on the subjects. Not that they should be taking notes yet.

'Or are they?' she wondered.

He was standing there by the monitor of the arena, talking on one of his many cell phones, his lips pursed in annoyance. That single action always reminded her of when she had met his predecessor thirteen years before. His predecessor was a pale skinned man, with a horrible looking nose and wicked smile-nothing like his successor. His successor was perfect in every way-a black haired Adonis, complete with a smirk that could melt your heart if you weren't careful. The thing that had remained constant with them both however was their eyes-they could stop time, destroy you and bring your innermost fears to life with a single glance.

He had chosen to wear his Armani without a tie again. She often wondered if he had a connection with Harry, knowing that he had the same pet peeve. He would often say that he would explain it to her later one day. But it was always like that. She could tell him everything, yet her nothing. She would get what he asked without question-the best and brightest geneticists, the greatest of magical archeologists and magical restorers, the best developmental biologists, the most powerful and skilled martial artists and masters-whatever he needed. She would kill upon command, but only those who had betrayed the Organization, no civilians. But then things started getting worse.

First, she learned of his predecessor's safeguard. Then she learned of the plans for the virus, made from a mix of magic, science and his blood. Later on, she learned of Harry's true nature as the Keeper. But the worst things began to happen when she told him where he could find Draco Malfoy. After that, everything changed. A new safeguard was made, and parts of the plans were told. When she heard them, her gut tore her up. She began to feel that she shouldn't be doing this at all. But she still needed to know what was really going on. It was slowly killing her. Today, she would get her answers.

She was snapped out of her train of thought when he spoke into his cell phone.

"That's right, you heard correctly." He told the person. "Terminate Victor Kersh. He's become a liability."

She recognized the name, but she couldn't remember where. But she remembered that this man was very important to them. And she also knew that the man wouldn't be a liability unless he was an informant. But an informant was a huge impossibility. Not with both herself and him heading the organization.

'Unless we're losing our touch.' She thought, suppressing a smirk.

He ended the call and closed his cell phone, beckoning her to come closer. He stroked her hair lovingly before turning back to the monitor. The arena was huge, it's walls bare, only occupied by three desks, textbooks and three little boys.

She didn't recognize them at all. They looked to be about nine years old, two of them had jet-black hair and the other platinum blonde. They were all rather shot for their age. They were all laughing at something, probably having fun playing their game of "Simon Says" with the blond one as the "Simon." She smiled, part of her wanting and wishing she could regain that innocence and ignorance of youth.

"Who are they?" she asked, curious.

He looked back at her gently, giving her his "I Know All" look.

"You don't recognize them?" he asked playfully.

She turned back to him, shocked and horrified at what she was seeing.

"They were just babies when I saw them last!" she said incredulously. "And that was only a few days ago!"

"Yes well," he explained. "The use of an Ageing potion was required for my plans."

She gave him a cold look.

"Those three should have been able to have had a normal childhood!" she said icily. "Adrian, Michael and Jacob should have been able to be normal for a lot longer than this!"

"And they would have." He said in monotone. "But my plans have been accelerated."

She knew he was lying when he said that they would have had a normal childhood. But she still made sure that he didn't know that she knew.

"Why?" She asked.

"Simple." He answered. "Harry. He's starting to come into his powers. I can't even "Haunt" him as much anymore because of them."

She hesitated before questioning further. She knew that if she pushed him too far and hard, he wouldn't tell her anything ever again.

"Is everything ready then?" she asked, still giving him the cold shoulder. "The virus? The spells?"

He nodded, still observing the children…or so it seemed. She could tell though that he was observing Jacob. She could tell that he was picking Jacob to initiate the final phases of the plan. And he seemed excited. She became horrified, realizing what he was doing. She knew that he was an evil man, but not that evil. But now she knew that he would do anything to satisfy his thirst. She knew that she had to stop him. And the first thing to do was save Victor Kersh. But she would need some help.

Harry's help.

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**REVIEW!! REVEIW!!! REVIEW!! REVIEW!!!**


	10. Chapter 7: Angered Confusion

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

A/N: HI EVERYONE! DID YA MISS ME???** (READ THIS FIRST)  
**

Sorry about the long wait, I went on an undeclared hiatus due to some events that were taking place in my personal life. I am very sorry!

Anyway, I'll be getting back on some sort of schedule, hopefully anyway. I'm attempting to juggle writing and my personal life, and so far it's working, so hopefully I'll be able to get some more up soon.

On a personal note, I'm saddened yet happy to reply and say thank you to the sole reviewer...please for the love of god review! Thanks again, shell.

And another thing...if it's not too much trouble...i would like to see some fan art of the story...i'll give away a nice prize if you give me some art...jk...and seriously, if you believe that, then i hope i become reincarnated as a freakin' textbook, so i never have to see you again!

Oh well...anywho, please review, and some fanart would be nice.

And now, I present, Chapter Seven!

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"If you're trying to sneak in, it won't work!" Hermione called out to him. 

Swearing under his breath, Harry pulled off his coat and took off his shoes before making his way to the kitchen. Hermione was cooking breakfast, still wearing her pajamas. She was in front of the stove with her back turned to him, hiding any expression that Harry hoped to read. Deciding to wing it, Harry leaned forward onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, smelling something delicious coming from the stove.

"Is that breakfast?" he asked hungrily.

"Yes it is." Hermione said calmly. "But you don't get any."

Before Harry could get over the shock of this, Hermione turned to face him, waving the spatula in her hand threateningly as if it were a sword.

"You don't get to eat," She repeated. "_unless_ you do two things. One, tell me where you went and two, read the case file Ginny left for you while you eat."

"I went to Church, Hermione." Harry told her, his mouth still watering.

She looked him over and decided that he was telling the truth. A few seconds later, she handed him a plate of pancakes, covered in cream and syrup. He was about to eat when Hermione cleared her throat, reminding him of the other thing he had to do. He pulled out his wand and summoned the case file from his room, letting it land gracefully on top of the island that he was eating at. He pulled out one file folder and saw pictures of the first crime scene, which were eerily similar to the one he went to the other day. However, he didn't see anything new at this one, so he closed the file and pulled out a new one.

"It's a little early for Mass, isn't it?" Hermione asked, standing across from him and eating a much bigger plate of pancakes.

"I didn't go for Mass." He told her, looking up at her. "I went there to look for a sign…and some advice. I ended up finding Seamus."

"Seamus Finnigan?" she asked.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed. "Did you know that he-"

"Entered the Seminary? Yes." She told him. "He entered right after you left for Denver."

Harry stopped eating and fell silent. His theory of Seamus entering the Seminary because of his love for him was confirmed now. Harry felt guilty more than ever now, knowing that he hurt someone else he cared about. He was about to push his plate away when he saw and strangely felt a hand lightly grab his wrist. He shifted his eyes to see that The Demon was there, smirking at him. Harry barely had any control over his reaction, trying to make sure that Hermione didn't see or hear anything.

"Keep eating." the Demon instructed. "Otherwise she'll just lecture you on the importance of getting over your guilt."

Taking a second to decide whether or not to heed the advice, he reluctantly and silently agreed with the Demon. He began to eat again, staring at Hermione and trying his best to ignore the presence of the entity.

It stood there, only being noticed by Harry, Hermione cooking away. Harry ate rather uncomfortably, forcing himself to eat and not vomit in the kitchen. He needed something-anything-to distract him from this thing.

He went back to looking at the case file, trying to find something new, something that he hadn't seen yesterday. He flipped through the pictures slowly until one caught his eye. He had just found something when a hand snaked along his thigh and toward his crotch. He gasped, knowing that this was something that Draco used to do when he wanted to tease him. Hermione whipped around to look at him, showing an expression of concern.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Harry swallowed hard and passed over the picture that he was looking at. He then pointed at a leaf in the picture. His body was starting to react to the touch, and Harry could tell that It was doing this to him on purpose, trying to get him to slip up. He controlled himself, willing away the erection that his body was trying desperately to build and controlled his breathing. He then tapped the picture to keep her attention on that image.

"Do you recognize that?" Harry asked, his body finally calming down.

Hermione focused on the picture while Harry continued to fight his physical reaction to the Demon. He knew that he had recognized the leaf from somewhere, but he couldn't place it.

"Yeah," she said. "That's Devil's Snare."

She looked up at him in surprise. He looked back, thoroughly baffled at her response.

"Devil's Snare? Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive."

Harry turned his head in thought, no longer allowing himself to focus on the Demon, who was still trying to gain a physical response from him. Why would there be a leaf from Devil's Snare at a crime scene? He knew that the victims weren't growing any, as they had just moved there. He also knew that none of the previous victims hadn't grown any either. The only way it could have gotten there, he concluded, was by the attacker or attackers.

Harry turned up to look at her again, ready to ask her a question when she interrupted him.

"Give me your phone." she demanded.

Confused, Harry handed over his cell phone. She flipped it open and punched in a number and called it. Still wondering whom she was calling, Harry waited patiently.

"Hello? Ginny?" Hermione asked. "It's Hermione. I'm using Harry's mobile. Yeah, he's staying here. Listen, come over here right away, Harry's got some new evidence. Yeah, thanks. Bye."

She hung up and closed the phone before handing it to him. Harry, still a bit dazed, took it and put it away, and finished his pancakes. He pushed the plate away and realized that the Demon was gone.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"You'll see." she answered cryptically.

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Five minutes after Hermione's cryptic conversation with Ginny, the Auror appeared at the front door, an envelope in her hand, demanding that Harry show her what he had found. Quite confused, Harry simply explained that he had found a partial picture of a leaf from plant, which Hermione identified as Devil's Snare. From that point, she demanded that she be requisitioned a vehicle, but ended up arguing with her superior about "wasting resources." Quite frightened, Harry decided to take the initiative and requisition a vehicle from OPS himself.

Ten minutes later, the car was delivered mysteriously into the driveway. Harry rushed upstairs to grab his coat, his sunglasses, his wand and his Glock. Once ready, both Ginny and Hermione asked him whether or not he was insane to bring a firearm with him. He retorted with the fact that he was an expert marksman, and besides he had been trained to defend himself with that, and had been using it for the better part of ten years.

Twenty minutes later, after arguing about who was going to drive (Harry won, explaining that Ginny shouldn't be driving whilst angry), Harry and Ginny were finally pulling off of the dirt road that led to Ron and Hermione's home and onto a side road that led to a motorway. Ginny was giving him directions, never telling him where they were going exactly.

The drive was quiet for a while, Ginny refusing to speak to him for some reason. Harry suspected that she was angry that he had found the lead and that she hadn't, even though it had been in front of her and her team the entire time. He also suspected that due to this new development, it might be reported that he himself had found it, and that he would be in the spotlight again. He sighed at this thought, knowing that the news would only make his life even more complicated.

Finally unable to stand the silence any longer, Harry summoned the courage to speak.

"Where are we going?" he asked, deciding at the same time to pass a car.

Ginny glanced in his direction before looking back at the road.

"We're going to see an informant of the Ministry." she told him.

"An informant is going to tell us what, exactly?" Harry asked, confused.

"He's going to help us track down who grew the plant." Ginny explained.

Harry was confused now more than ever.

"How-"

"He's a Tracker, Harry." Ginny explained. "He can take a piece of something magical that belongs to someone and track them to a pinpoint location. And for these people, there is no stopping them once they have your magical scent."

Harry was in awe. He knew that the Ministry had ways of tracking magic, but he didn't know that they had these kind of people. In fact, he wondered why they didn't use these people to track him down when he left all those years ago. Then it hit him-either they didn't have the money to pay this person, or they on have one. Meaning that he was considered less important. Harry was very thankful for this fact, whatever the reason being.

Forty-Five minutes after the initial phone call, Ginny was telling Harry to get off of the motorway and onto a rural road that no one seemed to know about. About a mile down the road, Harry saw what looked like a shiny rock pass them. He immediately recognized it as an Anti-Apparation crystal, as he had four of his own placed around his property. He knew then and there that that was why they were driving. The Ministry must have cut off the Floo Network from this place, and they must have placed Anti-Apparation crystals to cut off any unwanted visitors.

They soon pulled up to what seemed like a normal house…minus the many flamingos on the front lawn. The house itself was two stories tall, with an attic. It was white and the paint was chipping, the garage was detached from it. There was a deck on the second story, which Harry found to be odd, and was accessible by a window on either side. There was no patio or vestibule, so he wondered why the person designed the house that way. There didn't seem to be a side door or back door as far as Harry could tell.

Harry shook his head, wondering why this flamingo thing was the new fad in the Magical Community. But then, he remembered, nothing ever really made sense. He parked the car in the driveway and turned to face Ginny.

"What's with the flamingos?" Harry asked.

Ginny turned to him and smiled.

"They're used to treat and fertilize the lawn." Ginny explained. "You need at least ten to keep your lawn healthy and green. Twenty if you want it that way year round."

"Why not just get one?" Harry asked.

"Because it doesn't have the same effect." Ginny explained, climbing out of the car.

Harry rolled his eyes and followed suit. They walked up the stairs to the front door calmly, not letting the awkward silence get to them. He stood on her right, looking around the house for anything else unusual while she knocked on the door. He looked up to see that there was a hood that was bent awkwardly. He shifted his gaze downward to see that there was a wind chime that was attached to a chain. The chime itself was a bit torn up, almost as if…

Harry pulled out his Glock and cocked it. Ginny looked at him in shock and surprise.

"What're you-" Ginny tried to ask.

Harry silenced her by putting his finger to his lips. He then pointed at the fallen wind chime. She looked then pulled out her wand. He then used his hands to signal that he would go in first then she would follow. She nodded in agreement, letting him open the door, which was unlocked. Harry then put one hand underneath his pistol and pushed the door open lightly, allowing it to open fully on it's own.

The inside of the house was more interesting than the outside. Right as they went inside, there was a hallway, which seemed to go to the back door. Down the hallway were little doorways to other rooms, which Harry assumed were the living, dining and kitchen areas. On particular doorway led to a set of stairs. Harry looked at Ginny and then pointed at her, then the stairs. She understood what she meant and followed him inside.

They walked slowly, so as not to alert any possible intruder to their presence, they walked down the hallway, Harry pointing his gun straight ahead whilst Ginny imitated him with his wand. Soon they reached the stairwell and Harry moved forward while Ginny went upstairs. Harry walked down the hallway slowly to secure the other areas of the house.

As Harry inspected each room, he noticed that all the rooms were completely empty. There was no furniture, no pictures, no knick-knacks. He figured that there were two possibilities-there was an intruder who took everything to destroy any evidence left behind or that the occupant had packed up and moved without alerting the Ministry.

After Harry had inspected the rooms carefully, he determined that there was no one in the lower level of the home and put away his gun. He then walked up the stairs to find Ginny, only to find her standing in the middle of the hallway, pale as a ghost. Harry walked up to her to find out what was wrong, only to look into the room and see a body of a man laying facedown on a mattress, pieces of his brain and blood dripping on the wall that he was facing. From what he could tell, the man had been executed by someone using a pair of pistols. There were no signs of struggle.

Suddenly Ginny ran downstairs. Harry pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for Ops.

"Identification Number please." a voice stated/asked.

"Eight-One-Nine-Six-Two-Three-Eight-Two-Five." Harry said quietly.

"Clearance Code?" the same voice stated/asked.

"Eighty-one alpha ninety-six."

"One moment please"

Harry waited on the line for a few seconds and heard the front door slam downstairs.

"Operator." a woman said.

"This is Agent Potter." Harry stated. "I need a CSU at my present location. I'll be leaving my cell phone on so you may track my position."

"Understood."

Harry set his phone at his side and walked downstairs and out the door. He saw Ginny by the car, heaving. He also saw the vomit that was on the side of the car. Sighing, he walked over and rubbed her back, letting her get the last of it out before she muttered a vanishing spell for the vomit. She wiped off her mouth before looking back up at him.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She nodded in reply. She then pulled out her own cell phone and began to dial.

"I already called in a team." Harry told her.

She paused before giving him a confused look.

"You called in a team?"

"Yeah. I called in a forensics team to look-"

"This isn't your jurisdiction, Harry!" Ginny snapped.

"It is when your informant is executed!" He retorted.

Ginny opened her mouth to say something and then stopped. She pulled the same envelope that she had earlier and shoved it into his chest before stomping off down the road. Harry assumed that she was going to go outside the barrier and Apparate. He decided against following her, remembering her temper, and decided to open the envelope instead. It contained a single sheet of paper, which read:

"Evidence of hydrogen cyanide present in sample. Please advise."

Harry swore silently and closed his cell phone, finally understanding why she was angry. But he was angry too, not only because he was right, but it also made Ginny and her team look like idiots, which made him feel guilt. And annoyed. Harry didn't think that this situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

How wrong he was.


	11. Chapter Eight: Garret: The Other Harry

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the characters and situations I have created. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Summery: _It's been six months since Draco's death, but Harry still is haunted by his memory. Despite this however, he continues his battle against evil that threatens the world, but what's even worse, his destiny is finally revealed to him. Accepting his destiny however could be challenging, as he must deal with a new partner, an old attraction, friends passing on and old enemies returning. But even still, in despite of these challenges, Harry fights both his destiny and his greatest enemy._

----- 

A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay, but events in life have been keeping me busy-finding a new job, getting a new boyfriend, vacations and the like. So far the writing has been going slow, mostly cause I keep erasing what I write and starting from scratch.

Anywho, I hope that you all like this chapter, it is the start of the next arc of the story and will lead to a very shocking and very cool part.

I have to thank the only reviewer, ShellyD1982.

Could you all please review the story, I could really use the feedback.

The updates will be slow, but will get out asap.

Don't forget to read the new book!!!!!

And now I present: Chapter Nine!

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Chapter Eight: Garret Bristow-The Other Part of Harry 

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Harry woke up the next day knowing that it was going to be relaxing. He _knew_ that he didn't have to go anywhere work-related, so he had planned to spend the day with Angela, just to give his friends some space, peace and quiet. He _knew_, that the previous day had been somewhat of a disaster, and yet he really didn't mind, considering that he was used to it. He _knew_ that the murderer, or in this case assassin, had gotten away with this act, but he couldn't figure out why they wanted that particular informant dead. That was what he knew that Monday when he woke up.

Three hours later, he knew nothing again.

At nine in the morning, the doorbell rang. Harry was in the living room entertaining Angela whilst Ron was preparing his wife's sack lunch to bring to work, leaving Hermione to answer the door. She gasped when she saw who was standing in the doorway, causing Harry to jump up, pull out and point his wand at the door. Hermione must have seen what he was doing however, because she then shifted her gaze to him and looked at him incredulously.

"You can put that away Harry." She told him calmly. "It's okay."

Harry hesitated before putting away his wand. When he relaxed, he masked his look of shock when Lydia and Michael came through the door. Lydia was wearing a black shirt underneath her red leather overcoat, jeans, and black heels that were at least two inches high. Michael was wearing a tan corduroy jacket, a light blue pinstripe button up, dark jeans and tennis shoes. Hermione motioned for them to sit down whilst Harry picked up Angela and gave her to Hermione, so that she may whisk her away to another room. Harry then moved to sit down in the living room chair while the other two agents sat down on the couch. Harry stared at them, taking in their serious looks, knowing that their presence in this place somehow brought great importance.

"What're you doing here?" Harry asked, indifferent.

Lydia sighed before giving an answer.

"We've found someone who could give us a huge amount of information on The Syndicate." She explained. "We need to pull him out today."

"And you need my help to do it."

Lydia did confirm his statement, knowing that Harry was already three steps ahead of her. He had already figured out that this was going to be potentially dangerous and that this man was much more important their careers. She knew that he had already figured out that this man was going to be in grave danger and that he needed to be their as support, just in case.

Harry sighed. He got up from his chair and walked upstairs and changed from his sweatpants and tee shirt into a black body shirt, jeans, tennis shoes and black trench coat. He used his rib holster for his Glock Seventeen and his rear double holster for his Glock Eighteens, knowing that he might need all of them. He stored his extra clips in his coat, attached his earpiece, put on his watch and his sunglasses.

When he walked back downstairs, he looked like a completely different person.

The three of them walked out the door quickly and made their way to the car that was parked outside the house. When they all piled in, Harry peered out of the backseat and looked at the front door and saw the concerned faces of his long-time friends. He nodded to them, hoping that they would understand that he was sorry.

It was all he could do.

----

It took them an hour to reach their destination, which was a five-story building approximately six blocks from the infamous Canary Wharf. Harry looked out to see that is was a rather nice looking bank. He saw that the bank was modern looking, and that it was strangely connected to the parking garage across the street via bridge extending from the second floor of the building. The front entrance was interesting, having two sets of automatic sliding doors. The place itself had a medium sized crowd, but was starting to get larger by the minute.

Harry stepped out of the parked car across the street from the building and stared at the building. Lydia and Michael exited the vehicle and approached him, standing on either side of him.

"Who's our target?" Harry asked, not looking at either one of them, scanning the crowd ahead of him.

"Victor Kersh." Michael told him. "He's the president and CEO of the bank."

Harry nodded in understanding before opening his mouth to ask another question.

"We've set up a dummy appointment with him." Lydia explained, reading his mind. "We're going to meet with him to see if he'll come willingly."

Harry nodded again before he began his walk across the street, the two of them on either side of him. Once across, they entered the building silently, all three of them noticing quite easily that there were at least twenty security cameras covering the main lobby and the front desk of the floor. There were at least four security guards that were poorly armed, which Harry found very out of place considering the many cameras, which to him indicated a very advanced security system. He shrugged it off and continued his walk to the elevators with his partners, focusing on his objective. The three of them had the elevator to themselves, allowing them to go straight to the fifth floor, which Harry deducted was where Kersh's office was.

Once the elevator doors opened, they found themselves in a hallway, to which Lydia and Michael when to the right, with Harry following close behind. After a few turns, they found themselves in front of a half-cubicle, with a 50 something-odd year old woman inside doing what looked like an incredible amount of paper and computer work. There was a set of double doors to the left of the cubicle and a rather large set of windows to the right, allowing the woman to observe the street below if she wanted. Lydia approached the woman and cleared her throat. The woman looked up and from behind her bifocals, Harry could tell that she was highly annoyed that Lydia had interrupted her.

"Hello." Lydia said kindly. "We have an appointment with Mr. Kersh."

"Name." the woman said in monotone, turning to her computer and typing a few keys.

"Marissa Jenkins, Adam Keyton and Garret Bristow."

The woman typed a few keys and stared at the computer screen for a few moments. Then she picked up her phone and dialed a few numbers, which to Harry meant an extension into someone's office.

"Mr. Kersh, your ten-thirty appointment is here." She told him, pausing for his response. "Very well."

She hung up and continued on with her work.

"You can go right in."

"Thank you." Lydia told her, smiling.

The three entered the office and Harry immediately saw why Victor Kersh had his office in this location-the view. Behind the desk and through the window, he could see Canary Wharf Tower and the River Thames from his office, giving him a perfect view of the outside world, allowing him to see some beauty in life outside his demanding position. The desk was large but not huge, oak and dark. There was little paperwork on this desk, but a rather expensive computer monitor and keyboard were mounted. Fountain pens and a nametag showed off the power and money that Kersh made from his position. Kersh himself was a middle-aged man, dressed in a black suit that showed off his medium build. He held a few lines of grey hair in his short black hair, and his dark eyes held a look that said he was bored. He was rather good looking for an older man and Harry couldn't help but notice that he himself was checking him out. He felt a pang of guilt for doing so.

There were only two chairs, and they were rather plush-probably to impress potential high paying clients. Harry and Lydia sat down in the chairs while Michael closed and locked the doors behind them. Harry scanned the room to look for cameras or bugs but couldn't see any offhand. Lydia then pulled out a familiar tube of lipstick, pulled off the cap and twisted the stick out. Harry then looked at Kersh, who looked rather confused.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your names." Kersh said apologetically. "My name is-"

"Victor Kersh." Lydia interrupted. "We know."

Harry noticed that Kersh looked rather alarmed and was reaching for something in the desk.

"We are not from the Syndicate, Mr. Kersh." Harry told him calmly. "And we are not here to kill you."

Kersh allowed himself to relax a little, but still looked very tense. It was at this point that Harry knew something was wrong.

"Mr. Kersh." Harry started. "My name is Garret Bristow. I trust that your organization told you who I am?"

Kersh merely nodded and started to twiddle his thumbs.

"What is this about?" He asked nervously.

"We know you have valuable information on the Syndicate." Harry explained. "If you come with us, we can help take them down. For good. If you help us-"

"If I even attempt to help you," Kersh explained. "the Syndicate will kill me. End of story."

Harry remained calm as Kersh said this, but noticed that Michael and Lydia were rather alarmed.

"We can protect you." Harry told him.

Kersh scoffed at him.

"You think you can protect me from them?" Kersh asked rhetorically. "You obviously don't know who you're dealing with."

Harry stared at him, masking his annoyance with him.

"The Syndicate has much more power than anyone really knows about." Kersh explained. "They have people at the highest levels of government around the world. They have people who could kill me without even laying a finger on me and get away with it, making my case go cold and put away in some filing cabinet after three days of investigation. That is something you can't protect me from, Mr. Bristow."

Harry masked his look of shock, knowing what that meant. Harry knew that it would be futile to try and protect the man. He knew that that kind of power took years to obtain, and it took a lot of fear to control it. The question was, what could he do?

The answer was simple.

"I'll make you a deal." Harry said.

Kersh narrowed his eyes at him. Lydia and Michael stared at him in shock, knowing what he was doing could not only get him fired, but blacklisted to every intelligence agency in the world. Harry apparently didn't care.

"I will have a contact of mine hide you." Harry told him calmly. "And only he will know your location. In exchange, you give us everything you have on the Syndicate."

Kersh looked at him, tense and deep in thought. He was really thinking about this, Harry thought. Lydia was staring at him murderously, knowing that if he were reprimanded, he would lose everything. And as much as she wanted to urge him to stop, she knew that if he had made up his mind about this, then there was no changing it. She could only hope that he knew what he was doing.

"Deal."

She could only hope.

-----

The four of them left the office quickly and quietly. Kersh ordered his secretary to cancel all of his upcoming appointments. She didn't argue and did as she was told, but apparently was annoyed by this. They all walked quickly to the elevator and rode down to the first floor. It was agreed in the office that they use their transportation to get out of the building to get Kersh to a safe place, then his family. The ride down was tense, as all of the occupants wanted to get out and be safe.

But, as always, there were some things that can never happen. One of these things was good luck.

Right as they reached the first floor, the doors opened and revealed a rather sizable crowd. When Harry first saw it, he noticed only one thing. A five foot five brunette in a bright red halter-top, jeans and tennis shoes. She was glancing hastily at her watch when Harry reached over and closed the doors again. He then turned to Lydia and Michael, who were both clearly showing fear. Kersh was both confused and frightened, but maintained his composure.

"Lydia, get him out of here. Michael, secure the second floor." He instructed.

Both of them nodded. Harry opened the doors again and walked out of the elevator. He looked behind him to see that the elevator was going back up. He turned back around and walked in her direction, she apparently not noticing him. She seemed to be looking for something…or someone. Harry didn't take any chances and walked up to her from behind.

"I don't know what you're doing here," Harry said coldly. "but you're not walking out of here without handcuffs on."

She turned to face him. He was shocked. She looked truly afraid. Of what, Harry didn't know, but he did know that Carly Peyton was never _afraid_ of anything.

"I don't care what you do, Garret." She told him, hiding her accent. "But, I need your help. Victor Kersh-"

"Is safe." Harry interrupted. "Thanks to me. You won't be killing him. And the Syndicate will not find him."

Her eyes went wide with shock and she opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a scream.

Both of them turned to see what was going on. And both of them were shocked to see what was happening.

Heavily armed, masked and heavily armored men were entering the bank. One of them was carrying a duffel bag. Neither of them knew what the men said, or heard the screams and wails that came from the crowd. Both of them looked at each other and saw what were in the others eyes.

Truce? They asked each other.

Harry nodded. She agreed.

It was then that Harry prayed for his-and Carly's-survival.

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Don't forget to review please! 


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